


Da Capo Al Fine

by Shadow_Side



Series: Chiralityverse [4]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, M/M, Multi, dubcon, established threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-10-25 09:53:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 77,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10761834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Side/pseuds/Shadow_Side
Summary: Kevin's lost memories have finally come back, and he can't deny the need to tell Cecil and Carlos the truth any longer. But though the echoes of days past are difficult to hear, it is nothing compared to what follows: to a showdown decades in the making, and one more deadly than anything that has gone before.Behold the beautiful mountain. Think deeply about meadows.Because, even in Desert Bluffs, you can have too much blood on your hands.





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here we are!
> 
> First, a little story. I originally planned for this part to be, in fact, two parts. But, after a great deal of thought, it became clear to me that what I thought were Parts Four and Five were, actually, the first quarter and the latter three-quarters of what _this_ is.
> 
> There's a reason behind it all. You may have guessed by now that – in the light of Kevin's backstory, which I showed at length in _A Song of Blood and Sunlight_ (the prequel to this series) – it's about time our resident knife-wielding broadcaster told his two boyfriends the truth about his past. The whole truth. And, as you'll know if you've read _A Song of Blood and Sunlight_ (which you definitely should if you haven't already, because it's absolutely crucial to the plot moving forward, and also because this new part is chock-full of spoilers for it!) there's a lot in the poor boy's past. A _lot_.
> 
> And that story is not over yet. Oh no.
> 
> The opening sequence of this part, therefore, features a fairly involved re-telling of several crucial incidents from Kevin's backstory. If you've read _A Song of Blood and Sunlight_ , this will be familiar to you, but this time you finally get to see Carlos and Cecil hear it, and that is more than a little crucial, and I hope it works.
> 
> This part is also – for now, at least – the final part of this series. That doesn't mean I wouldn't write more if the plots came to me, and it doesn't rule out standalone one-shots set in Chiralityverse. But this is certainly the conclusion of the current arc of story.
> 
> I hope this works, too. I also hope this final part is the ending you've been waiting for.
> 
> Warnings? If you've read this far, you no longer need warnings! Blood. Violence. Angst. Family politics. Actual deaths. That super-screwed up relationship I hope to goodness you know about by now. Also some vague attempts at chronology, despite the non-existence of time. (Yes, I know. _Chronology_. Shock, horror! Someone call the Secret Police!)
> 
> 'Da capo al fine' is musical terminology and means 'repeat from the beginning to the end'. The chapters in this one are all musical terms, and I _do_ actually know a little about musical terms, so I didn't have to spend quite so long on Wikipedia this time around!
> 
> And yes, we are back to references to songs. As to where _that_ is leading… well, maybe you'd better find out…

**Prelude**

_Introduction_

***

Stories, generally speaking, have a beginning, a middle, and an end. So, too, do pieces of music. But these things, like strange, unreal time, are not actually bound by any obligation to follow this supposed sequence.

Sure, music _sounds_ weird if you play it backwards, and stories _seem_ weird and disjointed if told out of some apparent semblance of order. The truth, though, is that these things only appear that way if you expect them to have such order in the first place. If you impose such order upon them.

And Carlos – the scientist, the co-liberator of Night Vale, the co-liberator of Desert Bluffs, and the co-liberator of Nebolgorod, the miniature city whose inhabitants once tried to kill him – knows that the real truth of it all comes not from sequence but from _con_ sequence. From how each element impacts on the others. The past dictates the present and implies the future, but the future is not bound by either, and the present can deviate from both.

And time is weird. And inconsequential. And also not real.

Carlos really needs to sleep more. He knows this. He sleeps much better than he used to – given that he has two enthusiastic, chiral boyfriends who encourage him to bed and tire him out most nights – but sometimes even they can't quite cancel out all the caffeine. Or the fact that Carlos' mind resists sleep, on the grounds he could be doing something much more useful.

This particular night – or early morning; probably early morning if he's being technically accurate, which of course he always is – Carlos wakes up midway through thinking about the effect on general relativity of disproving the existence of time. He lies in the comfortable darkness for a few seconds, wondering if he should get up and make a few brief notes before the thoughts disappear like half-formed dreams, and then jumps when something else insists on his mind.

Kevin is gone again. Cecil is here, curled up next to him, head resting on Carlos' shoulder, but Kevin has disappeared.

And, OK, yes, this isn't exactly a rare occurrence. The trouble is, it usually happens for a _reason_ , and Carlos can't fight the need to know what that reason is. Partly because he's a naturally inquisitive soul, and partly because he usually _does_ need to know what the reason is.

He sits upright, glancing over at the bedroom door and wondering if he should go look for the man. Kevin might just be doing one of those _things_ he does out in the back garden, and if so then Carlos really ought to leave him to it…

"…Carlos?"

The sound of his name makes Carlos jump a little, and he looks round to see Cecil blinking up at him.

"Hey," he says, softly.

"Is everything all right? I… oh. Where did Kevin go?"

"I don't know. I woke up and he wasn't here. I was just wondering if I should go look for him."

Cecil smiles. "You should. And so should I. He's probably… you know, with the carved pebbles and all the blood… in the back garden. We can go encourage him to come back to bed. Possibly via the shower if he _is_ covered in blood again."

Carlos bats at him. "You like it really."

"So do you. And no I don't. And… shush."

There's an argument for saying that Cecil and Kevin are a bad influence on each other, and that argument is wholly correct.

And far too much fun.

"Come on," Carlos says. "If I'm going to find him, you're coming too."

So they get up, and pull on dressing gowns, and pace softly out into the corridor beyond. The lights are all off, but there's a glow coming from the direction of the living room.

And that glow is _flickering_.

"…I don't want to sound alarmist, but that looks like _fire_ ," Cecil says.

They hurry to push open the living room door, stopping when they realise that the room beyond is not, in fact, in the process of burning down. Instead, there's a fire crackling away in the fireplace, and Carlos stares at it for a moment because he hasn't ever stopped to think that said fireplace – in a modern house, in a desert town – might be anything other than purely decorative. But, given that the room is not filled with smoke, it apparently functions just fine.

The cause of it all is equally obvious. Kevin is here, sitting on the floor close to the fireplace, staring at the flames. He jumps a little as they step in, uncurling somewhat from the rather tight ball he was curled into before they arrived, looking up at them.

"Kevin?" Cecil says, softly. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Thinking." A pause. "…I'm fine."

Carlos and Cecil exchange a look. "You know we're not convinced by that, right?" Cecil now asks, albeit gently.

"…Could you maybe be? Just this once?"

If Carlos wasn't sure something is wrong before, he certainly is now. Certainly sure.

"Kevin," Cecil pushes, "what is it?"

Kevin turns his attention back to the softly crackling flames for a moment, watching as the orange light dances through the air, fleeting and ceaseless and deadly. "I…" he starts out, but then falls silent. "It's…"

Another pause, and then he looks back up at them once more, taking a deep breath. The man looks genuinely rattled – genuinely _scared_ – in a way he hasn't since the revolution in Desert Bluffs. And that alone is worrying.

"…I need to tell you something."

"What is it?" Carlos asks.

But, in his heart, he already knows, and a burst of adrenaline rushes through him at the realisation. He's known for a long time that this moment was coming. In truth, he's sure he should have asked about it sooner, but he also knows that it isn't going to be an easy conversation.

On the contrary. It may be the hardest conversation the three of them have ever had. And that includes the one-year anniversary of Sandstorm Day.

"It's… it's quite a lot of somethings, actually. I…"

Carlos and Cecil exchange another look, and then move in closer, sitting down either side of Kevin. Cecil takes his double's hand and grips it tight, whilst Carlos curls in against his shoulder. And… tries not to worry. The truth of the matter is, Kevin scared is a scary thing, and he can't help being unsettled by it. Especially when he's sure he knows why.

"…Look," Kevin goes on, "I… You know how I've been regaining a lot of memories that were hidden from me for years? Things that… that the Bloodstone stopped me from remembering? That and… and whatever it was Strex kept doing to me when…"

The mention of the Bloodstone sends a renewed stab of adrenaline coursing through Carlos. That terrible thing may be long gone, but sometimes he still wakes with the memories fresh in his mind. The blood-strewn plaza. The enforcers. The _deer_. The…

…No. No. Don't think about it.

"Yes," Cecil says, with a protective edge to his tone. "We know. We know the things they did to you. Things they will _never_ do again."

Kevin looks down. "There are some memories that have only recently finished coming back. Some that came back during the revolution. Some… that came back almost immediately after I first left Desert Bluffs to come here. Some I've lived with for months and some… some I've lived with for mere days. But the crux of it all is… I _remember_. I think I remember it all, now… as much as you remember things that happened – in some cases – almost two decades ago. And some of it… I…"

He trails off, seeming on the point of tears, and it's _terrifying_ to watch. Carlos curls in tighter, and Cecil lifts Kevin's hand, kissing his knuckles and then pulling it against his chest.

"Kevin," he says, softly. "Tell us. Whatever it is, tell us. Tell us why you're sitting staring into an actual fire in the middle of the night."

"…It isn't one thing," Kevin replies. "It's lots of things. What I need… is to tell you _everything_. The whole story. _My_ whole story. Because, yes, there are things you know, but there are so many you don't, and… I need you to know everything because I need to know if you can still live with me, once you do."

The mere thought of losing him, even hypothetically, cuts Carlos to the core. "Don't say that," he insists. "We love you. We _both_ love you. And we know enough about what Strex used to make you do to know that _none_ of it could change the way we feel. Right, Cecil?"

"Right," Cecil replies, firmly. "And, you said it yourself, Kevin: you _need_ to do this. And you know we love you. You _know_ all we want is to help."

"That might change, after I…" Kevin starts, and then falls silent.

"It won't," Carlos insists. "Nothing will change. You can tell us anything."

Kevin doesn't answer, turning and pressing his face into Carlos' neck, and Carlos can feel how much the man is shaking. And _that_ is terrifying, because it takes a lot to work Kevin up like this. A _lot_.

"I'll tell you, if that's what you want," he says, eventually, with an edge of _surrender_ in his voice that Carlos has never heard before. Not like this, at least. "I… guess I can't put it off forever. But once I do… I won't be able to take it back, and you…"

"…Will never stop loving you," Cecil reminds him, almost fiercely. Defensively, for sure. "Nothing you can tell us would make us love you any less."

"This might," Kevin whispers. "I…"

He pauses, taking another deep breath and staring into the fire once more. "OK," he says. "It's… hard to work out how to do this. I've only just finished putting my memories back together, and some of them were there long before others, and therefore long before I could actually make sense of them, and…"

"Start at the beginning," Cecil says, gently.

"To do that," Kevin replies, "I have to go back… well. It feels like about twenty years, but, time round here being what it is–"

"Or isn't," Carlos interjects.

"–Or isn't," Kevin echoes, "I can't be sure. What matters is that I was a young man at that point, barely out of college, and new to broadcasting. Strexcorp had employed me to work at the radio station, and I liked it, and everything was going well, and then… then came the day I first met Derek Hartley face-to-face."

The sound of the man's name makes the air itself feel cold. They almost never use it. Even Kevin usually doesn't – whenever he _does_ make reference to those days, he always just says 'my former employer'.

It's as if they all share an unspoken awareness of what the now-dead founder of Strexcorp was responsible for. Although Carlos is certain that he and Cecil don't really know the half of it.

But he fears they're about to find out.

Kevin takes a long, deep breath before he continues. "Mr Hartley came to the radio station. They said it was some kind of staff engagement event, which I believed entirely at the time. But now… in retrospect… I think he contrived the whole thing in order to meet me."

"You?" Cecil says. "Why would he do that?"

"Why he chose me, I don't know," Kevin answers. "I never did. Maybe he had some sense of my particular… skillset. I don't know. I just know that he did, and he knew how to play me from the moment we met. Likely before. Sometimes I think I'm just being arrogant, or paranoid, and that he was merely seizing an opportunity that presented itself. But the rest of the time… I'm sure the whole thing was a setup. He came to the station, and we talked, and I… you have to understand, I was in awe of him. He was the leader of Strexcorp, the leader of Desert Bluffs, and whenever he spoke… you only met him once, right at the end, so you never really got to see, but he… was _captivating_. And I was…"

"…Captivated," Carlos surmises, softly.

Kevin nods. "Yes. He invited me to a big social event he was holding a few days later, for Strexcorp's rising stars. He and his family held parties like that all the time – believe me, I went to enough of them. But that was my first. I was beside myself with delight at the thought, at the idea of being seen so favourably by a man I admired so completely. That night… was the night I first met Naomi."

Despite everything, he smiles a little at this. "She was thoroughly unimpressed by the party, and to cap it all off, she thought I was about to try hitting on Lauren. So when she found out I _wasn't_ … I don't know, I guess we just clicked. I talked to her, and then I met Lauren, and Lauren _did_ hit on me – quite a lot, though I didn't think much of it at the time – and… the whole night was a great deal of fun. But, at the end…"

A pause, and a deep breath.

"…I went outside, as everyone was leaving, and then these two guys came up to me. They were part of the group of suitors who used to follow Lauren around, and they hadn't taken kindly to the fact she'd spent half the night talking to me. I tried to tell them they had _nothing_ to worry about, but… they wouldn't listen. Before I knew it, they'd both pulled knives on me, and I… I just…"

He looks almost guilty. "You reacted," Cecil surmises, and it isn't a question.

"Yes," Kevin answers, softly. They know what he's capable of. They've seen it, perhaps more times than Carlos would like, and the ease with which Kevin does the things that he does is always a little alarming. But it must have started somewhere. "The two men tried to kill me. I'd never had any formal combat training, but I guess I just have a latent talent for it, because within a moment those two men were dead, and I wasn't even hurt. It just… it just happened. And then everyone came running and Naomi was really very supportive and Lauren… I guess Lauren was a little smitten, and then Mr Hartley…"

He shivers, and it's clear the memory is a pretty intense one. "…He was so calm and understanding. He took me back up to the house, and I ended up sitting with the four of them… him, and his two daughters, and Susan, his wife, and… they were all so very nice to me. And I just… you have to understand, I pretty much _worshipped_ them, and they… they were so welcoming and warm and I ended up staying the night and… I guess that's how I ended up a close personal friend of the Hartley family. All of them."

"And you never realised something about them wasn't right?" Cecil asks, carefully.

"No," Kevin answers. "Not at the time. Looking back, I can see it now, but then… then they made perfect sense. And they were wonderful."

"Hartley probably set that whole thing up as well, you know," Carlos says, feeling cold at the words. "He could easily have ordered those two to attack you, to drive you into his family's arms."

"I know," Kevin admits, looking down, with a little shiver that seems to hide something deeper. "But I didn't see it back then. All I saw was these amazing people who wanted to spend more time with me. And they did. I got invited round increasingly frequently. I ended up becoming very close friends with Naomi, which really was the only truly good thing to come out of it. And… Mr Hartley introduced me to his fixer. Terry. Terry Carver. He's the one who taught me how to fight. I trained with Terry for months. He was a good… maybe 'friend' is the wrong word, but I liked him. A lot."

" _You_ were Hartley's fixer," Cecil now says. "So… what happened to this man, Terry?"

"He died," Kevin answers, simply. "I was told he was killed by dissidents. I found out later that he'd been killed by Mr Hartley himself. He… Terry _was_ one of the dissidents. He worked as a double-agent. And… and he broke free of the Bloodstone too. More than once. Eventually… eventually Mr Hartley got tired of it, and replaced him. With me…"

"…But I first met Darla that same day," he goes on, obviously trying to fight back the memories with something positive. "There was a siege at an office building, and Darla was one of the people taken hostage. Well, they _tried_ to take her hostage, but it didn't stick, and the two of us ended up fighting together, and we were friends from there on in. I set her and Naomi up at a party a little while later because they were so right for each other."

"Wait, a siege at an office building?" Carlos repeats, trying not to look too stunned. "Did that happen a lot?"

Kevin nods. "More than you would think."

Knowing what he does about Desert Bluffs in Strexcorp's day, maybe Carlos shouldn't be surprised.

"So… things went on like that for a while," Kevin continues. "Naomi and Darla got together. Lauren kept trying to pursue me, even after I explained in clear terms that I'm not into girls that way. And Mr Hartley… he used to send me on missions all the time. Take out dissidents here. Assassinate someone there. More than once, I ended up killing someone at one of his parties, and I still don't know if that's because it was convenient, or he set that up too, for his own amusement. And I…"

He trails off a moment, and the other two both curl in closer, giving him time.

"…You want to know the worst part? I enjoyed it. I felt like I was on top of the world. Like I could do anything. I felt… radiant. Resplendent. _Terrible_. **Wonderful**."

Carlos grips Kevin's hand tighter. "You were under the influence of the Bloodstone," he points out.

"Yes," Kevin says, softly. "Yes, I was. But the Bloodstone didn't make you obey unquestioningly. Not unless you touched it, and even that wouldn't last forever. The rest of the time, it just made you very suggestible. You didn't have absolute free will… but you did still have some element of choice. And I _chose_ to become what… what I became. I… I wanted it. I…"

He drops his head, trying to pull away, but he's caught between the two of them and they don't let him go. Carlos, certainly, won't dare. He knows the urge to run for the hills when he sees it, and right now Kevin's dark eyes are full of little else.

"…I miss it," Kevin admits, even more softly, voice barely louder than a whisper. "Sometimes, in the dead of night… I can feel it, that need he put there. I can remember what it felt like to be the left-hand of the man who – to us, at least – was the most powerful in the world."

"But… you regret all those people you killed?" Carlos pushes, and he knows there's a plaintive edge to his tone. A plea. _Reassure me. Reassure me that you wouldn't do it all over again._ He feels guilty for even asking, but… it's terrifying. Terrifying to lift the curtain on Kevin's past and see what's really been lurking behind it all this time.

"Of _course_ I do," Kevin insists. "Or… I regret most of them. I don't regret what I did during the hostile takeover attempts. I don't regret defending my hometown. It was a demon-ruled deathtrap, but it was _ours_. But… the dissidents? Oh yes. I will never stop regretting what I did to all of them."

"Hostile takeover attempt _s_?" Cecil repeats. "How many were there?"

"In my time?" Kevin says. "Three. And I need to tell you about all of them, because each one ended up being significant, and… OK. The first took place at the turn of the millennium. Everyone was excited for the midnight party, although they were also concerned because of all the prophecies about the Millennium Bug."

"The Millennium Bug?" Carlos repeats, surprised. "I remember all that stuff. Everyone worrying all the computers would break because they couldn't handle the change of date, which is of course ridiculous because time isn't even real, although…"

"…No, no, this was a living creature," Kevin interjects, softly. "The Millennium Bug. It was a demonic abomination from an undetermined plane. We never found out which one."

Carlos stares. Cecil stares too, if somewhat less so.

"…Hold on," Carlos manages. "You're telling me the Millennium Bug was an actual _thing_?"

He realises, as he says this, that it is perhaps not the point he should be fixating on. And, as he realises _this_ , he knows it's so that he _doesn't_ fixate on the points he _should_ be fixating on. And…

…OK, stop overthinking it. It's hard not to overthink, given everything Kevin has told them so far.

Kevin nods. "Oh yes. It had long been prophesied to appear in Desert Bluffs on the stroke of midnight at the turn of the millennium. Hence the name. Everyone was gathered at the Bloodstone for the celebrations, for the _spectacle_ , and then… midnight. And it appeared. A great, big, terrifying creature, right on top of the Bloodstone. I have to admit… it was super-impressive. Also deadly, of course. But the Coven of the Sun were on hand to face it down, and–"

"Wait, the 'Coven of the Sun'?" Cecil says.

"Oh, right, sorry, I haven't mentioned them yet," Kevin replies. "The Coven of the Sun is the group Susan Hartley was part of. More than part of, actually; she was their founder and their leader. They took on the Millennium Bug in front of everybody, and they won, and darn but it was impressive. Only… it was also the opening salvo of a hostile takeover attempt by a company called Xanatos Tech."

Carlos goes cold as ice. "Xanatos Tech?" he repeats, his voice suddenly shaking. "The company that tried to recruit Tomas and me?"

Kevin nods again, a little more gravely. "Yes. I told you it was for the best that you never went to work for them. That they were subsumed by Strexcorp at the turn of the millennium. This is why. They attacked, and we fought them off."

"And you won?" Cecil says.

"Strexcorp always won," Kevin answers, softly. "You know that. But… there's more to this part of the story. There's something else I…"

He falls silent, and Carlos can feel how much the man is shaking again, and he knows that whatever's coming has to be right at the heart of all this.

"Kevin," Cecil says, "it's OK. I promise you. It's OK. Whatever you need to tell us…"

The air is suddenly as heavy as lead, and Carlos doesn't know what worries him more: the thought that Kevin might not say what he needs to say, or the thought that he's about to do precisely that.

"I met someone that night," Kevin starts out, his voice devoid of emotion, as if it's the only way he can do this. "You know that Mr Hartley was head of the Strexcorp Management Board, but there were four others who ran things with him: Nina Belmonte, Lilith Wallace, Hikaru Tachibana, and Aidan Outteridge. And all four of them had partners of their own. All of _them_ , incidentally – the partners, I mean – were founding members of the Coven of the Sun; the ones who were present when Susan Hartley brought the Management Board to this plane in the first place. And two of them – like Mr and Mrs Hartley – also had children of their own. Mrs Belmonte and her husband had twin daughters, Zara and Tamsen, who were a couple of years younger than Naomi. And… Mr Outteridge and his wife had a son, just a little younger than Lauren. Callum. His name was Callum Outteridge."

Carlos has never once heard Kevin say this man's name before. Not once. And yet, the instant he does, he can feel the way Kevin says it; the same way he only ever says two other names.

The weight of the air increases all the more.

"We'd never met before that evening," Kevin goes on. "I'd heard him spoken about plenty of times, of course I had: he was the second-oldest of the Management Board children, and for a while he and Lauren had dated. Though, by all accounts, it ended badly. Anyway, that night, out of the blue, Callum comes over and starts talking to me. We hit it off. We ended up fighting alongside each other during the hostile takeover attempt, and… uhm…"

Kevin actually blushes, and now Carlos is absolutely five-sigma certain where this is going.

"…He kissed me. Or I kissed him. Or… there was some kissing. And quite a lot of fighting for our town and our employers. It was… it was intense… And… it wasn't the only thing that happened that night. Later on, when I was fighting alone – Callum got called back in – I sort of got stabbed. In the side. Right here…"

And he puts his hand down, resting it against his left side. The exact same place where he was stabbed during the Battle of Night Vale.

"Wait… you had a scar," Carlos says, remembering. "Back… you know, before. When we first met. You had a scar right there."

Kevin nods. "I did. It was from that hostile takeover attempt. I got stabbed or cut or… something. I don't even remember it happening. I just remember Mr Hartley turning up in time to catch me as I fell. He hailed a helicopter and took me back to his estate, and had the medics patch me up. He always used to say… he said I took that mark for Strexcorp. He said it was a reminder of my devotion to the company… to… to him. Why do you think he stabbed me there, during the Battle of Night Vale? He could have taken me out on the spot. He could have killed me nigh-on instantly. But… he wanted to make a point."

"Well, it didn't work, did it?" Cecil says, his voice suddenly defensive, bordering on fierce. "He failed. We got to you in time. _Dana_ got to you in time."

"She did," Kevin replies, his expression going distant. "Oh yes, she did. Ironic, really. No matter what I did, I could never save Vanessa, and yet her double saved me right after we first met…"

"Vanessa," Carlos repeats, softly, mind flashing suddenly to what Kevin said, that day in Nebolgorod. "Dana's double."

Kevin nods. "One of my interns. Yes." He looks down for a moment, taking a deep breath before he speaks again. "Well. When the dust had settled, Xanatos Tech was roundly defeated, my boss thought I was wonderful, and Callum Outteridge and I started dating. I'd been with people before, of course, but with him… I rapidly knew it was serious. We were… _right_. Don't hate me for that…"

"Kevin, of course we don't," Carlos insists, and merciful Einstein but it _hurts_ to watch the other man falling apart like this. "It was long before you knew either of us."

"I… I know," Kevin concedes. "I just… you have to understand…"

"Tell us what happened," Cecil pushes, gently, though from his tone it's obvious he too is alarmed by the prospect of finding out.

Kevin nods. "All right. So… Callum and I were together for a while. It was good. It was _great_. And then… then… I started having the dreams."

"The dreams?"

"Yes. You see… the Bloodstone's hold over people wasn't always absolute," Kevin explains. "Many people never broke out of its control, but a few of us… it would start to happen eventually. Seemingly from out of nowhere, you'd start to question things you'd accepted before, like why Strex was so powerful, or why the town was drenched in blood, or why the Management Board didn't age, and eventually, you'd slip right out of the Bloodstone's control and see things as they really were. Many of those who did break free ended up becoming dissidents. Strex drove them right underground by making sure everyone else believed they were the enemy, and… I killed more of them than I can remember. A few who broke free kept it quiet, and managed to live with what they knew, but it wasn't easy. And… it always started with dreams. I don't know if everyone's were the same, but mine were always about the Bloodstone. I'd see it. I'd hear the song as it really was, and realise how _wrong_ things were. And then… I'd watch the sky crack open, feel the light burn me, and…"

"And?" Cecil manages. Which is good, because right now Carlos can't speak.

"…And I'd wake up in pain. Very real pain. Usually screaming. Which… given that Callum was there, was hard to hide. I spent days trying, though. Insisting it was nothing. And, all the while, I was starting to understand the truth. The terrible, terrible truth. Until, one night… I woke up from another of the dreams, but I wasn't in bed. I was in my living room, and I had drawn all over the walls: a great big convoluted mental map of everything I had come to understand, with the Bloodstone at its core, and four words beneath: ' _destroy at all costs_ '."

"How did you hide something like that?" Cecil asks.

"I didn't. Callum found me moments later. I thought he'd try to kill me for what were clearly proto-dissident activities. I certainly thought he'd want nothing to do with a man who could no longer follow Strexcorp – of which I remind you his father was one of the five leaders."

Carlos finally manages to find his voice. "But… that didn't happen?"

"No. That didn't happen. Callum was already a dissident. He wasn't affected by the Bloodstone – like Naomi – because he was half-demon, and he'd long been opposed to Strexcorp, and helping the dissidents in secret. He told me everything: the Bloodstone, the Management Board, the demon-blood, all of it. I was completely lost. And then I realised my only options were to become a dissident, or to hide what I knew. But, if I tried to keep it secret, I'd have to keep killing people for Mr Hartley. People I now realised were innocent, and… and I… I couldn't. I couldn't. So Callum and I made a choice. We decided to take out the Bloodstone."

Carlos goes cold all over again, as he remembers what they learnt during the revolution in Desert Bluffs: that Kevin had tried to take out the Bloodstone multiple times before the day they finally managed it.

Which can only mean one terrible thing.

"It… didn't work." Which isn't a question.

Kevin shakes his head. "No," he says, voice little more than a whisper. "It didn't work. It… he…"

All of a sudden, Kevin pulls out of the tangle they're sitting in, firmly enough that neither Cecil nor Carlos tries to stop him, and scrambles to his feet as if he's about to make a run for it. But then he just freezes in mid-step, stopping where he is, arms wrapped around himself.

The other two both scramble up as well, looking at each other in alarm as they go over to Kevin and throw their arms around him again: Carlos in front, Cecil behind. And, with the man pressed against his chest, Carlos can feel just how fast Kevin's heart is racing.

"Tell us," Carlos whispers. He's sure he knows where this is going, and the thought is horrifying beyond measure.

"All right," Kevin says, after a moment. "All right. I'll tell you. I'll tell you what happened on the worst day of my life."


	2. Dolente

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those of you who haven't read _A Song of Blood and Sunlight_ might want to take a deep breath at this point. Actually, even if you have, I still recommend it...

**Dolente**

_Sorrowfully_

***

Cecil and Carlos tug Kevin gently down onto the couch, keeping hold of him. For his part, the man between them doesn't resist, though he's quiet for a long moment once they all go still.

"Callum came up with a plan to take out the Bloodstone," he starts, finally. "It was… you know, it was weirdly similar to yours, Carlos, but using a ritual rather than science. We prepared it between us and then, one night, we went to the Bloodstone to carry it out."

"And… it didn't work?" Cecil says, softly.

"No. No. It didn't work. It left a crack in the front facet of that accursed thing, but no more. And then, seconds later… the plaza was full of enforcers. We were caught. We tried to fight, of course we did, but… we were overwhelmed."

He's shaking so hard now, it's like he's just been dunked in icy water. Carlos instinctively tries to wrap around him a little more, as if there was some way to chase the cold out of him.

Even with the fire still crackling in the grate, the whole room suddenly feels _dark_.

"The enforcers disarmed us and kept hold of us both," Kevin goes on. "And… Mr Hartley was there. He wasn't even surprised. He said Terry had rebelled on several occasions – that was when I found out that Mr Hartley was the one who killed him – and he made it quite clear he had no intention of killing me. I knew what that meant. Knew I'd be made to touch the Bloodstone, and then they'd drag me off for re-education, and… right then, I would rather have died. I knew that being pushed back under meant I'd be killing dissidents – _innocents_ – again, and the thought was horrifying. Plus, it was obvious that I'd break free a second time, and that this would keep happening, and I… I didn't want that. But there was nothing I could do. _Nothing_. The only saving grace in all of it was that I was so sure Callum would be OK. He was the son of Aidan Outteridge, one of the Management Board children. He _had_ to be OK. But… Mr Hartley had other ideas. He…"

Carlos already knows. Or, he can guess. He and Cecil make eye contact over Kevin's bowed head, and their expressions are hollow with horror.

"…He made me touch the Bloodstone," Kevin says. "The enforcers dragged me over and slammed me against it. The instant they did… it was all gone. All the confliction, all the confusion, all the doubt. The world was bright and glowing and wonderful and the man I admired above everything was there, happy to see me. You can't _know_ what that was like if you've never been through it. It was as though someone had turned all the lights back on and _everything was fine_."

"And… then?" Cecil asks.

Kevin takes a deep breath. "And then he drew his knife and handed it to me, and told me to kill Callum. So I did. I walked up to the man I loved and I stabbed him in the chest. And then, right then – how Mr Hartley did it, I don't know – the illusion snapped and my mind was free, in time for me to watch Cal fall to the ground. In time to hold him in my arms as he died."

The whole world seems to stop at that. Carlos can't breathe. Can't move. He tries to tighten his grip on Kevin, but nothing happens, as if his own body is too much in shock to react.

Cecil, meanwhile, pulls Kevin in closer, though the look in his eyes is hollow and horrified. "It wasn't your fault," he says.

"I know," Kevin answers. "But that doesn't change anything. I did it. I remember _wanting_ to do it. And I remember how terrified Cal looked, and the worst part is… he wasn't scared for himself. He was scared for _me_."

"What… what happened next?" Carlos manages, having just about found his voice.

Kevin still doesn't look up; still won't meet eyes with either of them. "I grabbed Mr Hartley's knife and tried to kill him with it. Didn't get very far. The enforcers had hold of me again in seconds, and I knew it was all over. I begged him to kill me, then, but of course he didn't. He just told me what was going to happen next: that I'd be sent for re-education, and then he'd fake the circumstances of Callum's death, so I believed he'd been murdered by dissidents. So I'd become even more determined to _wipe them all out_. And… that's pretty much the last thing I remember, at least until I was suddenly back at work, and everything was normal and bright and fine."

Carlos tries to voice the next burning question. "You… you don't remember..?"

He can't get the words out. But Kevin obviously understands. "You don't remember re-education," he answers, levelly. "It's designed that way. They say it's hell, that you're conscious as you experience it all, but when it's over… you forget. Forever."

"And… you don't..?"

"No. I don't remember it. Except for the barest flashes… but sometimes I'm not sure if they're real, or just half-formed nightmares…"

Somehow, that's even more frightening.

"So… you thought everything was back to normal?" Cecil says.

Kevin nods. "Yes. I spent the day in blissful ignorance. And then I got a phonecall telling me something had happened at Cal's apartment block. When I got there, he was dead, and Mr Hartley told me he'd been murdered by dissidents. And I had no reason to believe anything else. My Callum was gone, and I had no doubts in my mind as to who was responsible. Or what they deserved…"

Now Kevin finally looks up, and his eyes are so dark, his expression so dark, that Carlos is almost scared to see it. "Mr Hartley sent me after the dissidents. After every single one we knew of, or even merely suspected. And I killed them, in the course of a day. One after another after another. I turned up at their doors, at their offices, and I smiled, and I killed them. And it did nothing to fill the void in my soul but that didn't matter, because he wanted it, and I wanted it, and it was done."

He tries to pull away again, but they're too quick for him, keeping him on the couch. Keeping him from running. The holding on is almost painful, but Carlos won't let go, and neither will Cecil, and eventually Kevin just goes still and collapses in on himself.

"It was the worst thing I ever did," he whispers. "I'd killed a lot of people, but nothing like that day. All the other times, I killed people because I'd been ordered to, and because it was for the good of the company. But that day… yes, it was for the good of the company, but I did it because I _wanted_ to. Because I wanted to punish the ones I believed were responsible for murdering the first love of my life."

"You know it wasn't your fault, don't you?" Carlos manages. He can't stop his voice from shaking as he speaks, but he keeps going regardless. "You were under the control of the Bloodstone. Hartley was lying to you. It _wasn't your fault_."

Kevin nods. "I know that. Rationally, I know that. But none of this is rational. I don't remember the rational parts of it. I remember murdering dozens of people; people I now know to have been utterly innocent, both of Callum's murder and of any other supposed crime."

He falls silent for a moment, though doesn't try to pull away again.

"How long have you known?" Cecil asks, softly.

Kevin looks up at him. "What do you mean?" he says, though – from the waver in his voice – he knows _exactly_ what Cecil means.

"How long have you known what happened?" Cecil answers. "About that night. About what really happened to Callum. When did you remember?"

Carlos goes even colder. Up until now, he's guessed that it must have been one of the last things Kevin remembered; perhaps even the catalyst for this whole conversation. But at Cecil's words, he suddenly understands how wrong this is.

And he's right.

"…It was pretty much the first thing that came back," Kevin whispers, and maybe this is as big an admission as the facts behind it. "I didn't remember the context: that we had been trying to destroy the Bloodstone, because the Bloodstone kept me from remembering anything about it – even the mere fact of its existence – when I was too far away. But… the moment I killed Callum… it was one of the first things that came back to me when I left Desert Bluffs. The day I was sent here, to Night Vale." A beat; a beat that weighs as heavy as the universe. "The day before Sandstorm Day."

"You…" Carlos tries, and then he can't. He _can't_.

"It was in your head the whole time," Cecil breathes, his tone a mixture of horror and guilt. "Right from the start."

Kevin nods. "Yes. I knew Carlos was here – Mr Hartley had dropped _that_ bombshell a few days earlier – but I didn't know the two of you were together. And I set up the whole thing at the radio station because that's precisely what I thought he'd expect me to do. And… to make contact with you in a way that wouldn't draw the wrong kind of attention. But I lost control of my emotions and it all went horribly wrong. And I was _terrified_ of giving anything away, because all I could think about, over and over, was that _I had murdered the first love of my life_."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Cecil asks. "Why didn't you..?"

"How could I?" Kevin replies. "I could see how completely in love the pair of you were. One look at Carlos and everything I had felt the first time around came back. And, Cecil… I was falling for you from the start. I did everything I could to keep anyone from realising how I really felt about you. About either of you. It was the only way I could make sure… the only way I could stop it happening again. Stop him…"

"You thought he'd make you kill us, too," Carlos says, his tone hollow at the thought.

"Yes," Kevin answers, softly. "I didn't know if he suspected that I had slipped out of the Bloodstone's control again, but I knew that the slightest hint of my feelings towards either of you would be enough to make him want to test it. Test _me_. I was right, too, because he did. Just before the Battle of Night Vale. He tried to make me kill you, Cecil."

"And you refused," Cecil reminds him, firm and proud. "Without a flicker of hesitation. You stared him down and refused."

"I did," Kevin agrees. "It was… weirdly liberating, actually. It helped that – by that point – I already had my own plan in motion. But I would have refused him anyway. And…"

He goes suddenly still.

"…And then it turned out I _did_ do it. Sort of. The first time Carlos went through the time loop, the night the Bloodstone was destroyed. The attempt where it _didn't_ work. Lauren made me kill Cecil."

"And I _undid it_ ," Carlos reminds him, almost fiercely, and then goes cold when the other memories hit. "…And then I snapped back to the start of the day and immediately told you what had happened…"

"You did," Kevin says, softly. "And part of me… part of me wanted to admit it all there and then. To tell you that I'd murdered a man I loved because of the Bloodstone once before. But… I couldn't. I…"

He's shaking so very hard again. Cecil pulls him in close, wrapped tight around his double with Carlos curled in against Kevin's other side, and for a long moment none of them speaks.

"Neither of us blames you for any of this," Cecil says. "Don't forget that. Not any of it. You hear me?"

"I hear you," Kevin answers. "But… I'm not done yet. I…"

He pulls back a little, and goes back to staring at the floor.

"…I told you about the first hostile takeover attempt. About Callum. About where it all led. I… need to tell you about the second."

His voice is different, now; the grief of before dulled by something else. Something that is half fear and half… _guilt_?

"You can tell us anything, Kevin," Cecil says, gently. "Don't forget that."

"You may come to regret those words," Kevin replies. "Once you know what I did… Who I…"

Carlos can't help a renewed feeling of dread at this. There's something _worse_ than what Kevin has already told them?

"It was three years later," Kevin starts out. "Things had been pretty quiet – by Desert Bluffs' standards, at least – and then, one day, we received word that a company called Crimson Holdings was about to make a move on us. Naturally, everyone rallied to fight back. Once I'd made an emergency broadcast on behalf of Strexcorp – and checked my sister and niece were safe – I headed into the centre of town to join up with Mr Hartley. He'd asked me to come straight in, so I did, in time to find him and Mrs Belmonte and Ms Wallace taking on a bunch of guys from Crimson Holdings. Well, I launched straight into the fray with Azzie at my back. I'd only been soul-bound to Azzie for a few months at that point, and it was the first really big combat situation we'd been in together. I was… you know. The way I get."

"Gleeful?" Cecil suggests, not at all unkindly.

"Yeah," Kevin accepts. "Something like that. Before long, the other two had gone off to find Mrs Belmonte's twin girls – Zara and Tamsen – and I was left with Mr Hartley and Azzie. We fought together for ages, and eventually Azzie de-summoned, and Mr Hartley and I went back to HQ so he could get in touch with Naomi, and find out how things were going elsewhere in the city."

"And?" Carlos asks.

"Oh, we were winning," Kevin answers, easily. "No surprise there. The enforcers were already starting the cleanup, and it looked like everything would be over by nightfall. Crimson Holdings really never stood a chance. And…"

He goes quiet again, not speaking for a moment.

"…Look, I'm going to tell you something, now. And you're going to hate me. Even if you think you won't. You will. You will when you know what I…"

"Kevin," Cecil says, firmly. "We could never hate you."

"Don't say that, Cecil," Kevin replies. "Not until I tell you what I… I…"

His nerve goes and he tries to break away from them again, but it's so obviously going to happen that both Carlos and Cecil have hold of him before he's even tried.

"Just tell us," Carlos implores, trying to fight back his own wave of terror.

"…All right," Kevin concedes. "All right. So we were in Mr Hartley's office. Just the two of us. He'd been on the phone, checking in with Naomi, and then… then he was done. And we were alone."

Suddenly, Carlos' blood goes cold, and from the look in Cecil's eyes, his own mind has just gone down the same route.

"He attacked you?" Cecil manages.

Kevin gives a short, wry little laugh. "Attacked me? Oh, Cecil, no. No. He didn't attack me. He kissed me."

Cecil stares. "He… kissed you? But…"

"He kissed me," Kevin says, again. There's an edge of hysteria under his tone, now, though it is anything but gleeful. "He pushed me into the wall and kissed me, and it was really _terribly_ lovely, and then I made him stop because I thought his wife would be angry and I couldn't do that to Susan, and _that's_ when he told me the two of them had an open relationship and that her coven's rituals were often… you know, orgies… and that it was Mrs Hartley herself who had been pushing him to make a move on me, and…"

When the words come, they come fast. All Cecil and Carlos can do is stare, and when Kevin's brain seems to process this, he goes silent for a moment.

"…I told you you'd hate me," he manages, finally.

"We don't hate you," Cecil insists, his voice shaking with suppressed emotion. "So you… you and Hartley, you…"

"…Were together in his office for quite some time that evening," Kevin admits.

"And… and he didn't..?"

Kevin shakes his head. "He didn't do anything I didn't want. At the time, at least. I was under the influence of the Bloodstone, remember? I thought Strexcorp was wonderful. I thought _he_ was wonderful. Finding out that he wanted me was…"

Wonderful.

"Did it..?" Carlos starts out, and then finds he can't go any further, too overwhelmed by the shock of what he's just heard.

But Kevin seems to understand. "Did it happen again?" he says, and Carlos nods. "Oh yes. Many times. The night of Lauren and Adam's wedding – after I'd saved her from a dissident attack – was the second time, but from then on in we hooked up fairly regularly. We were never… you know, officially an item… and I'd date other people, and he'd never make a move on me when I was seeing someone else. But as soon as I wasn't… there he'd be. Wanting me. Making me feel…"

A shiver runs through Kevin, strong enough for Carlos to feel it too.

"…Do you still have feelings for him?" Carlos asks, softly. "I realise he's dead, but… do you?"

Kevin stares at him, dark eyes wide with conflicting emotion. "How could I?" he says. "He enslaved my hometown for decades. He made me kill countless innocent people for him. He had me tortured to break me back into line, not once but six times. And let's not forget the part where he made me _murder_ the first love of my life. And…"

"Kevin," Cecil interjects, soft and firm at the same time. "That isn't a 'no'."

It isn't a 'no'. And maybe that's the most terrifying part. Even more terrifying than what happened to Callum Outteridge.

"…I still remember how he made me feel," Kevin whispers. "I remember what it was like to have the man I admired above all suddenly turn around and admit he wanted _me_. I remember what it was like to _surrender_ to him… to…"

He tries yet again to break away from them and run for it – Carlos doesn't think he's ever seen the man so scared – but Cecil puts a hand on Kevin's chest. "Don't," he says, and though his tone is kind, the firmness is more evident in it now, and the way Kevin responds to _that_ is just…

…oh, this makes so much more sense now.

"You don't have to run away from us," Cecil says, somehow managing to keep his voice level. "I mean it. Yes, this is unsettling to hear, but we've known for a long time that there were things you never told us, and I think it's fair to say we should have asked you a lot sooner. But the things that happened back then… we know they weren't your fault. You were under the control of the Bloodstone. Under the control of _him_."

"I remember wanting it all," Kevin whispers. His eyes are closed, his head bowed, but he's still leaning into the hand on his chest like it's the only grounding he has left. "The fighting. The killing. _Him_. When I look back… I don't feel like I was mind-controlled. I feel like I was _me_."

"I knew you back then," Carlos cuts in, suddenly, not sure if he should bring any of this up, but at the same time not seeing any other way. "And certain… certain factors aside… you were still a good person. I wouldn't have fallen for you if… if you…"

Kevin looks up, his eyes haunted. "I was lucid," he whispers. "I… I don't know how I managed it… how I got the two sides of my mind to mesh like that, but…"

"Lucid?" Carlos manages to repeat, even as a fresh wave of horror hits him. "But… you…"

"I know," Kevin replies, his tone almost wry now. "I don't know how I did it. All the other times I slipped out of the Bloodstone's control, the only thing I could think about was destroying it. I'd rebel, I'd lose, and I'd be pushed back under, all within no more than a few days. But this time… I don't even know when it started. I just know that I was able to keep being… to keep being that person… whilst somehow being me underneath. I mean… I still killed people, and thought little of it, but… at the same time I could see the truth. And I kept the two in balance for months. Months. Until…"

The horror in Carlos' chest dials up to eleven. "…until I left," he whispers.

Kevin grips his hand, hard. "I don't blame you," he insists, desperately. "It hurts like nothing else ever has, but… I don't blame you. And…"

"I… don't know this part of the story," Cecil points out, gently. "I know something happened, but…"

"It was the third hostile takeover attempt," Kevin says, and Carlos suddenly realises that _he_ doesn't know the whole of this story either. "A company called Nietzsche Futures PLC. They launched an attack one day, so of course I was sent to join the fight against them. I had Azzie with me, and also I had Adam Mallard's posse, and…"

Cecil looks at him in surprise. "Wait, what?"

"Oh, that's just what I used to call them," Kevin answers. "Well, to be fair, that's because it's what Adam himself called them. Adam – Lauren's husband – was dead by this point, but he'd sort of bequeathed those guys to me, and I used to call on them for backup in tricky situations."

_So that's who they were_ , Carlos thinks, remembering the people he saw walking along the street with Kevin, right before the worst conversation of his life.

"We were fighting all afternoon," Kevin goes on. "We pushed the Nietzsche Futures guys back from the Accounting complex – you could see the fire for miles – and then we moved deeper into the suburbs, looking for more of them. And… you know, it was so much easier to fight back against a hostile takeover attempt. I didn't have to think about who the people were. I just knew they were the enemy. And I wasn't really thinking about where we were going, until… until I realised it was the street Carlos lived on. Until… he was _there_ , standing on the lawn, staring at me like he'd never seen me before. And… and it was only later that I realised he _hadn't_. Not that me. Not that person."

"Kevin… I…" Carlos starts out.

"It's OK," Kevin insists, though he sounds like he's on the verge of breaking down. "It's OK. What happened… happened. And it's not as though I hadn't kept things from you. And… and… you ran away… and I… I couldn't stop it. And once you were gone… I kept on fighting. It was the only thing I had left. I fought late into the night. I sent the others off, and I told Azzie to go back to the Fourth, and… eventually Naomi found me. She found me and she tried to help, and I told her… not everything, but enough, and I think she thought that was her moment to pull me away from Strexcorp. I've never asked, but I'm sure… sure she…"

He drops his head again. "Well. It doesn't matter. I'd already decided what I was going to do. I ran off before she could stop me, and I… I went to the Bloodstone."

"But… but you knew what it was," Carlos says, soft and horrified.

"Oh yes," Kevin answers, still not looking up. "I knew. That was the point. I went to the Bloodstone because it was the only way I could think of to make the pain stop. The pain of knowing I'd been so close… so close to…"

The thought is agony, and Carlos can hardly bear to think it.

"…Well," Kevin says, taking a deep breath, lifting his head at last. "I went to the Bloodstone. I went to the Bloodstone fully intent on touching it. On letting it push me back under. On _giving in_. And that thing still insisted on messing with me. I had… a vision? I don't know. I was conscious, and I saw the whole plaza filled with bright red ghosts. Apparitions of the people I'd killed over the years. I had to walk through that crowd to get to the Bloodstone, knowing they were watching me, knowing… knowing their deaths were my fault, and… finally I got to the Bloodstone itself, and the last ghost was Callum's. And in that moment… I think, in that moment, just for a moment, I remembered _everything_."

"Did you go through with it?" Cecil manages, even though it's obvious what the answer to this is.

Kevin nods. "Yes. I did. And… it made me forget. Not everything… not Carlos… but so much of it. The truth. The uncertainty. All gone. Again. And, the next day, I went back to Mr Hartley, and I…"

He trails off, and neither of them pushes him to say what happened then. It isn't exactly hard to guess, and thinking about it makes Carlos' chest ache.

"Kevin… I don't know what to…" Carlos starts out, but that makes Kevin look at him, putting a hand over his.

"Don't," Kevin says, softly. "You don't have to. I'm not telling you – either of you – any of this to make you feel guilty. I'm telling you because you needed to know the truth… because you needed to know what I did… what I…"

He falls silent again, bowing his head.

"I meant what I said earlier," Cecil starts off, pulling Kevin in closer. "This doesn't make us love you any less. Not in the slightest. Right, Carlos?"

"Right," Carlos answers, curling in close as well. "It just makes me even more glad that we worked this out when we did. That you're _here_ , where you belong. With _us_. And… Kevin… you won, in the end. The monster who hurt you is dead. Desert Bluffs is free. _You_ are free."

"I know," Kevin whispers. "But it doesn't change what happened."

"No," Cecil agrees. "It doesn't. But you're here now. You're here, and you're safe, and we love you."

For a moment, they just stay curled tightly together, until Kevin says, "…There's something else."

A fresh wave of terror hits Carlos. "Something… else?" he manages.

"Yes," Kevin answers. "Naomi. Naomi doesn't know about… about me and her father. No one else did, except for Mrs Hartley. And Naomi… she doesn't know that we were… She doesn't know any of it. And I need to tell her and I don't know how, because how do you even _start_ trying to say something like that? Telling the two of you was nearly impossible. How am I supposed to tell his _daughter_? His daughter who also happens to be my oldest and closest friend?"

"The same way you told us," Cecil replies. "You just… tell her. She's a good person, Kevin. She'll understand."

Kevin doesn't say anything for a moment, and then he nods. "All right. I… I'll call her in the morning, and arrange to meet, and…"

"Let me go text her now," Carlos suggests. "Then you'll know it's done and you can worry a little less. I'll tell her you guys need to talk and ask her to call me when she wakes up."

Kevin nods again. "All right."

And so, more than a little reluctantly, Carlos extricates himself from the other two and goes in search of his phone, leaving Cecil and Kevin curled tightly together on the couch, still bathed in flickering firelight. His own mind is racing, not quite able to engage for any length of time on anything that's just happened, and he's sure it will take days just to process it all.

Even knowing there were terrible things in Kevin's past, the shock of actually hearing it is more than Carlos expected.

He finds his phone in the bedroom, and taps out a quick text message to Naomi. ' _Kevin just told us some things. Could you call me in the morning? No cause for alarm, everything is fine._ '

It's only after he's hit 'send' that Carlos wonders if 'everything is fine' might be _less_ reassuring than it was meant to be. He sits in the dark for a moment, on the side of the bed, mind still racing, which means he jumps about a mile when his phone – still in his hand – starts to ring.

It's Naomi. He takes the call at once.

"Hey… uhm, really sorry I woke you," he starts out, feeling a little guilty about that.

"You didn't," comes Naomi's reply. "I don't sleep much. It's the demon blood in me. Now… tell me what's happened."

She always sounds so reassuringly certain. It helps. "Look… long story short, Kevin just told us some things. Quite a lot of things. Possibly everything."

"Ah," Naomi answers, and there's not a flicker of surprise in her tone. "I see. I wondered when this would happen. Are you all right?"

"Honestly? Not even a little," Carlos admits. "But Kevin… Naomi, I've never seen him like this. And he wants to talk to you."

"To me? Oh… yes. Yes. I see." Still, not a flicker of surprise, and Carlos suddenly wonders if Naomi Hartley knows more than Kevin thinks she does. "Would you like me to come over?"

"What, right now? It's four in the morning!"

"I don't mind if you don't. I can get one of my people to warm up the chopper. Won't take long to get over to you."

"You're going to land a helicopter in the street?" Carlos says. "That didn't go so well last time."

"The Secret Police are less hostile towards me these days," Naomi reminds him. "And that new Sheriff of yours is surprisingly reasonable, now I've convinced them that Desert Bluffs is no longer trying to invade. And keep promising as such on a regular basis."

"In that case… we'll be expecting you," Carlos agrees.

"Perfect. See you soon."

As the call ends, Carlos sits and stares at the dim room for another moment, hoping he's done the right thing, and then he gets up, heading back to the others.

Cecil and Kevin are still on the couch – Kevin wrapped in Cecil's arms, head on his shoulder – and they both look up as Carlos paces in.

"Were you on the phone?" Cecil asks.

"Yes," Carlos answers. "I texted Naomi, but then she called me back straight away. Said she was awake already. And… long story short, she's on her way over."

Kevin pulls back in alarm. "Now? I…"

"It's better this way," Carlos insists, sitting next to him again and taking his hands. "You won't have to worry about it for hours. And we'll be right here with you. It's going to be OK, Kevin. It is."

And though the words are meant as reassurance, Carlos can't help thinking they're also true. From the lack of surprise in Naomi's voice, she likely knows more than Kevin realises.

For the next howeverlong it actually is (time being what it isn't), they stay curled together on the couch. No one really says much, but the closeness and the contact somehow speaks volumes all on its own, and even Kevin seems to calm a little.

It's a small mercy. But it's something.


	3. Liberamente

**Liberamente**

_Freely_

***

Eventually, the distant sound of rotor blades cuts the air.

It isn't an unfamiliar sound in Night Vale – given the prevalence of helicopters in the skies – but they all know at once that this particular chopper must be Naomi's.

And they're right. As the sound rises to a roar (hopefully the neighbours won't complain), Carlos gets up again and goes to the window, peering out through the blinds in time to see a bright yellow helicopter landing neatly in the middle of the road, its spotlights glowing in the darkness. Leaving the other two on the couch, he heads to the front door, looking out just as Naomi Hartley finishes talking to the chopper pilot and steps onto the asphalt.

As the chopper takes off again, rising up into the air and away, its passenger paces closer to where Carlos is waiting in the doorway.

"Carlos," she says. "It's good to see you again."

"Likewise," he answers. He's grown very fond of Naomi, and he's glad to see her. "Though I wish it was under better circumstances."

"As do I," Naomi concurs. "Where is he?"

"Inside, in the living room, with Cecil."

"What did he tell you?"

"…Rather a lot," Carlos manages. "I mean, we knew there were things he _wasn't_ telling us, but…"

He trails off, not sure he should say more at this point, and Naomi puts a hand on his arm. "It's all right," she says. "I promise you. Can I see him?"

"Of course, of course, come in."

They go inside, and through into the living room. The instant they do, Kevin leaps to his feet, though it's hard to tell if he's being polite, or about to try escaping through the window.

"Naomi," he starts out, "I…"

"Come here, you," she says, and pulls him into a hug before he can say any more. And _that_ alone is very telling, because Naomi Hartley isn't usually the hugging type.

As the embrace breaks, Kevin manages to gesture vaguely to the couches, and they all sit down.

"I… really am sorry for dragging you over here so early," Kevin starts out.

"Don't be," Naomi insists. "I was already awake. Besides, you're my closest friend. I'd come here any time if you needed me."

"I'm not so sure you'll still think that after… after I tell you what I'm going to tell you," Kevin manages. "I just finished telling Cecil and Carlos… everything, I guess. I told them about Callum."

A strange kind of grief crosses Naomi's face at that, a pain dulled by time but unfading nonetheless. "I see," she says. "When did you remember?"

"…The day I came here, during the occupation," Kevin admits, softly, looking down. "It was the first thing that came back."

"It was in your head the whole time?" Naomi replies, and there's surprise in her tone now. "Oh, sweetie, why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't know how. I didn't understand all of it – because I couldn't remember the Bloodstone – but I knew I'd… I knew I was the one who…"

"I know," Naomi says, gently, saving him from having to say it again. "It was a long time before I found out the truth about what had really happened – Dad kept it from us – but when I did…"

"…Wait, how _did_ you find out?" Kevin asks. "It wasn't at the time?"

Naomi shakes her head. "No. No, Dad lied to everyone. But Aidan found out years later – I think Dad must have said something that gave it away – and he went absolutely ballistic during a board meeting."

"He didn't know either?" Kevin asks, sounding stunned.

"No," Naomi answers. "Dad never told him. And then Aidan found out. It was right before the first incursion into Night Vale, and there was an extended board meeting: the five of them, plus me, and Lauren, and Zara and Tamsen, and suddenly in the middle of it Aidan confronted Dad about the whole thing. And Dad just admitted it, flat-out. Said Callum had been a traitor. Said… said he'd made you kill him."

She bows her head for a moment. "For what it's worth, Aidan never blamed you. He knew it was Dad's fault. And – though they tried to hide it – things between them were never the same again."

"What happened to him?" Carlos asks, suddenly. "Aidan Outteridge, I mean. Was he one of the ones in the HQ tower when we went after Lauren?"

"No," Naomi says. "Aidan was the other board member who died during the Battle of Night Vale. And, though there's no hard evidence, the prevailing theory is that the person who killed him was my father. That either Aidan saw his chance for revenge, or Dad saw his chance to get rid of the dissenter in his midst. Maybe both. And there weren't many people in that battle who _could_ have killed Aidan – given that he was a demon – so it's a pretty strong theory."

There's an odd little pause, and then Naomi speaks again, bright blue eyes still on Kevin. "But that isn't what you wanted to tell me, is it?" she asks, softly.

"…No," Kevin manages. "No… I mean, I guessed you already knew, even if I didn't realise how long it took you to find out. But… I need to tell you something else. It's about… about your father. And me. And… Naomi… just hear me out, and then you can hate me as much as you like, and…"

"…You were sleeping with him," Naomi cuts in, soft and sure, and Kevin stops absolutely dead at the words, such that – for a moment – he isn't even breathing.

"You… you knew?" he manages, finally. "I… when did you..?"

Naomi leans a little closer, her expression level. "Right from the start. The day Crimson Holdings staged their hostile takeover attempt. That was the first time, wasn't it?"

All Kevin can do is stare at her. "You… _knew_?" he says, voice somewhat high-pitched, as if his mind is stuck in a loop.

Naomi nods. "I knew. Of course I knew. Lauren and I were teenagers when we first worked out that both of our parents liked to play away from home. Or, you know, at home. Mom was the leader of a _raucous_ coven whose core members were all married to demons, and Dad…" She pauses, as if contemplating how best to phrase what's coming next. "…Dad liked men he could control."

Kevin goes furiously pink and bows his head for a long moment.

"I knew the second the two of you got home that day," Naomi goes on. "Dad wasn't exactly subtle about it. And you… I could see it in your eyes. I mean, I knew from very early on that you had a thing for him. You like strong, powerful men. You _also_ like men you can pin to walls with knives, but–"

"…You know about that too?"

"I know about lots of things, Kevin. But the point is… I knew something had happened. Why do you think I kept asking if you were all right?"

"Because… because you were my friend and there had just been a massive hand-to-hand battle, and the _last_ time that had happened I almost got stabbed to death…"

"True," Naomi concedes. "But I also wanted you to know that you could talk to me. You always could. And you still can."

"So you don't… you don't hate me?"

"Hate you? Kevin, I could never hate you. I hate my father with a fire that time and death itself will never dim, but I don't hate you. I know what he was."

Kevin is silent for a moment, as if his mind can't quite process what he's hearing, and then he looks up, meeting Naomi's eyes again. "…So we're OK?"

"Of course we are," she answers. "And, let me tell you, the fact that all this ended with Desert Bluffs saved and you and I both alive and on the same side… that's more than I ever dared hope for."

"…Oh," Kevin breathes, softly. "I… well, that's…"

Naomi reaches out and grips his hand. "Take some time to deal with all this," she says. "Talking about it must have been awful, and I'm sure it wasn't easy for Cecil and Carlos to hear. But… it's better that they know, trust me."

"I… I know," Kevin manages. "I… you really don't hate me?"

"I really don't hate you," Naomi repeats, gently. "My only regret is that I couldn't… that I _didn't_ … help you so much sooner. I was afraid that, if I tried, my father would come after us, and Darla too. Afraid I might lose you both. I knew I couldn't win and I _hated_ that."

There's pain in her eyes, now, and Carlos is struck by the realisation of how much Naomi must have gone through; living in full knowledge of the truth but unable to do anything about it.

The thought is more than a little terrifying.

"Well," Naomi goes on, taking a deep breath, "we won, in the end. Remember that. And it's Liberation Day a week on Saturday. One whole year since we took back control. It's going to be quite a day. You're all going to be there, right?"

"Absolutely," Cecil answers. "The Youth Militia is flying us in. Dana said we should just hire a minibus, but Tamika insisted."

Naomi smiles. "I'm looking forward to it. Although… why don't the three of you come spend this weekend with me and Darla? It's been ages since you last came to visit, and we could talk more, if you need to, or just catch up."

"I'd like that," Kevin answers. "If… the two of you…"

"Of course we would," Cecil adds, whilst Carlos nods in agreement.

"Wonderful," Naomi says. "Then I look forward to it, and I know Darla will too. In the meantime… just try to process all this. And remember that we _won_."

They did. Oh, they did. But, before today, Carlos has never quite realised the extent of what it cost.

***

Naomi heads off home after that, signalling for her chopper to come back. She hugs Kevin again before she goes, and finds herself getting an unplanned hug from Carlos immediately afterwards.

He whispers a soft, "Thank you," in her ear as he does it, not quite sure what else to say.

As the helicopter disappears off into the pre-dawn light, both Cecil and Carlos slide an arm around Kevin. "Come on," Cecil says. "We should go back to bed for a few hours."

They head inside again, pacing through to their bedroom, and as they get there Carlos is a little surprised when Kevin immediately pushes in to kiss Cecil, quick but firm, as if he's acting before he loses his nerve.

"Could we… uh..?" he starts out, and the apprehension would seem very odd out of context.

Cecil smiles, and puts a gentle hand on the side of his double's face. "Of course," he answers, softly. "If that's what you want."

"It is," Kevin replies. "I want… I want all these other thoughts pushing out of my mind, so the only thing I can think about is the two of you."

Cecil presses his forehead to Kevin's for a moment. "Done," he promises, and kisses him again, and then moves slowly behind him.

Which is Carlos' cue to step in, kissing Kevin more lingeringly whilst helping Cecil to slowly slip the dressing gown from Kevin's shoulders. It makes the man between them give a soft gasp of pleasure, made all the more obvious when they do the same with their own, leaving them topless and skin-to-skin as they press in closer.

It feels good. So very, very good, and Carlos can only hope that it is starting to drive back the memories in Kevin's mind. He still feels an ache in his own chest whenever his thoughts snap to what's happened, to what the man has just told them, and he can only imagine – agonisingly, over and over – how much worse it must be for Kevin.

Forgetting seems out of the question. But distraction can definitely be a thing.

Cecil's hands go to Kevin's shoulders, stroking over them and sliding slowly down his arms, and _that's_ when something happens that Kevin clearly isn't expecting. Though, to be fair, neither is Carlos.

Cecil pulls Kevin's hands behind his back. The action isn't rough, but it's obviously firm; made all the more evident when instinct makes Kevin resist just a little, and he doesn't get very far.

"What are you–?" he starts out, but he's interrupted when Cecil leans in close to his ear.

"Tell me something, Kevin," he says, and the undertone to his voice knocks Carlos for six – and, judging by the look in his eyes, knocks Kevin for the full dozen. "Do you trust us?"

"With my life," Kevin manages, his voice barely more than a whisper, but suddenly laden with the strange fervour that Carlos has heard once before: that second night in Nebolgorod, months ago. He himself is still pressed in close, and he can feel how fast Kevin's heart is racing at the question.

"Are you sure?" Cecil pushes.

" _Yes_ ," Kevin answers. "Yes. I'd do anything for you. _Anything_. And I… Cecil, what's happening right now?"

"I think you need this," Cecil tells him, gentle but firm, and so full of certainty. "I didn't understand it for a long time, but I do now. I think you need this, and you don't quite know how to ask for it. Am I right?"

Kevin's eyes go wide. "I…"

Carlos puts a hand on Kevin's chest, over his heart, feeling all the more just how fast it's racing. "It's OK," he says, softly. "I promise. You showed me that."

It's true. And it means he understands the look in Kevin's eyes all too well. It just isn't one he expected to see there… and yet, at the same time – now that the last pieces of evidence have fallen into place – it makes so much more sense.

"If you want us to stop, all you have to do is say the word," Cecil tells him, still speaking close to Kevin's ear. "And if you don't… and I think that you don't… then relax, and let us give you what you need."

All Kevin can do at that is nod, and take a deep breath, obviously trying to get his own reactions under control. Carlos has seen pretty much the entirety of Kevin's emotional spectrum – and it's a wide-reaching one at that – but this is a part of it that's never fully manifested before. Not to this extent, at least.

Cecil's eyes go to Carlos now, obviously checking that he's also all right, and somehow he manages to convey so very much with just that one look.

And Carlos understands. Or, hopes he does.

Carlos' hands drift to stroke over Kevin's chest, tracing gently over familiar skin, his eyes never leaving Kevin's face. And yes, this is partly because he needs the reassurance that the man _is_ OK, but it's also because he looks so incredibly beautiful right now; his mind already starting to let go, as he gives in to the two of them.

Carlos can certainly attest to how good _that_ feels, and it's interesting to see it from the other side. Interesting and gratifying in equal measure.

"That's it," Cecil murmurs in Kevin's ear, as Carlos' hands start to drift lower. "That's it. You can relax. You can give in. I promise… we won't ever, _ever_ hurt you."

"I know," Kevin replies, sounding as though he needs to say the words more than he needs oxygen itself. "I know. I trust you. I'll do– _oh_ …"

It's at this point that Carlos pushes a hand into Kevin's pyjama trousers, starting to stroke him whilst using his other hand to slide the clothing down and out of the way. He gets a broken gasp of delight for his trouble, followed by several more as the stroking grows steadily firmer.

" _Please_ ," Kevin gasps. "Please, I…"

"You like that?" Cecil asks, and Carlos has to concentrate just to keep his own focus at the tone of the other man's voice.

" _Yes_ ," Kevin manages.

"Good. Good. Carlos?"

 _Focus. Concentrate. Don't fall immediately to your knees_.

"…Yes, Cecil?"

" **Pull him apart**."

" _Yes, Cecil_."

Just because Kevin is the one going under doesn't mean Carlos can't enjoy a little of it himself. By proxy. It's certainly excellent motivation to do exactly as Cecil has asked, and he leans in closer, feeling the heat from both doubles' bodies as he starts to stroke Kevin harder. The man in question struggles a little again at first, though it's clearly instinctive because the look in his eyes suggests he doesn't want to be _anywhere_ else but here. Kevin drops his head back on Cecil's shoulder after a moment, murmuring in bliss, and Carlos takes it as an invitation to kiss along the side of his neck.

Because he knows how good _that_ feels.

The strokes grow stronger, and firmer; Carlos knowing precisely how to drag Kevin right to the edge. He's losing himself in it as well, in the sight of the two men in front of him: Kevin drifting out of his mind, and Cecil looking like he suddenly understands the secrets of the universe itself… and can re-write them to his own will.

"P-please…" Kevin gasps, eventually. "Please…"

"Say it," Cecil pushes. There's still no roughness to his tone, none at all, and yet it's clear the words aren't a request.

" _Pleaseletmecome_ ," Kevin replies, so immediately that all the spaces disappear.

" **No** ," is Cecil's soft but certain answer, and it's weirdly amazing to watch how that one little word pretty much breaks Kevin on the spot. Amazing and terrifying and utterly understandable.

"… _Please_ …" Kevin begs.

"Not yet," Cecil tells him. "Not yet. You understand?"

Kevin somehow manages a nod. "Yes," he whispers, and clearly means it.

Carlos slows the stroking a little, so he can draw this out as long as possible. He knows the effect it will have, and in turn how _incredible_ it will feel when they finally let Kevin go over the edge.

After a moment, Cecil leans to speak into Kevin's ear again. "Tell us who you belong to," he says.

"To you," Kevin replies, and the fervour in his voice is now stronger than Carlos has ever heard it. "To _both_ of you."

Cecil kisses his double on the jaw. "You do. You're ours. And you've been ours since the night we first brought you home. Since the night we took you away from _everyone else_."

" _Yes_ ," Kevin gasps in agreement. He's shaking so hard now, but Carlos knows it isn't from fear.

"Good," Cecil tells him, softer again. "You don't have to be afraid of what you need. Or of us. We'd never hurt you. And you will always be safe right here… where you're meant to be."

" _Yes_ ," Kevin manages again, and his tone is different this time, and Carlos can tell – from one look in the man's eyes – that his whole world has just flipped over and gone still.

No wonder the other two like doing this to him. It's unspeakably beautiful to watch.

And Cecil can clearly feel the shift in Kevin's whole demeanour; in the way the tension drops out of him, and his breathing finally goes slow. It brings a smile to Cecil's lips, and he kisses Kevin's jaw once again.

"That's it," he murmurs, full of reassurance now. "That's it. Come for us."

The words leave Kevin caught on the brink for mere seconds – seconds that Carlos is sure will seem like an eternity in the man's head – and then he comes, crying out in wordless bliss as pleasure and completion race through him. He shakes a little under the force of it, but as soon as the waves start to die down he goes completely still again, head on Cecil's shoulder once more.

"We love you," Cecil says, softly. "We love you, and you're safe with us."

" _Always_ ," Carlos adds, and presses in to kiss Kevin, slowing the stroking to nothing and moving to rest his hands on Kevin's hips.

There's a quiet, comfortable pause.

"I think it's time we took our lover back to bed, don't you?" Cecil asks, after a moment.

Carlos smiles. "I do. I really do."

They guide Kevin gently over and lie him back at once, and he puts his hands up above his head without Cecil even asking, surrendering again without a word.

"It's like he can read my mind," Cecil says, tugging Carlos in to kiss him – and oh, but that feels good – before they both slip out of their own pyjama trousers and lie down on the bed, either side of Kevin.

"I love you," the man between them gasps, a little of the apprehension slipping into his tone again. "I mean it. I love you both so much it breaks me apart inside."

"Then let us put you back together," Cecil tells him. "Let us show you how completely you're _ours_ …"

His hands go to Kevin's arms, up above his head, stroking along them once more… and this is clearly a sign that he has a plan, because Carlos suddenly realises there's something in Cecil's hands. He's proven right a moment later, when there's a soft, metallic _snap_ , and… apparently Cecil has found where Kevin hides those handcuffs he has.

Kevin's eyes go wide, and darker than the void itself, as Cecil loops the chain of the cuffs through the headboard of the bed, before closing the second one around Kevin's other wrist.

Instinct makes Carlos put a hand over Kevin's heart again, and he can feel it racing once more. He remembers what it felt like the first time the other two did this to him: like his apprehension had been dialled up to eleven, right before it turned into one of the best nights of his life.

"It's OK," he says, gently. "It's OK. You're safe. I promise."

Kevin stares at him, hazy-eyed and distant, nodding several times as if he isn't processing everything all at once. But, with each second, he seems to calm slowly back down, relaxing into the gentle touches: Carlos' hand on his chest, and Cecil's now going to trace over his cheek.

"We're going to show you that you're ours all over again," Cecil tells him, voice back to that sure, level tone that does all kinds of wonderful things to the inside of Carlos' head. And evidently has the same effect on Kevin. "Would you like that?"

" _Yes_ ," Kevin answers. "Please."

Cecil leans in to kiss him, before pulling back and then tugging Carlos in, kissing him too, which feels so very good. They both linger over it for a minute before Cecil gestures for the two of them to move, gently pushing Kevin's legs apart and guiding Carlos in between them, before sliding into place behind him.

And… oh, but this is quite a view: Kevin staring up at the two of them with lingering – and anticipated – bliss in his eyes, hands bound up above his head.

Caught. And, it would seem, loving it.

Carlos hears the snap of the lubricant bottle, seconds before Cecil reaches around to start stroking him with some of it, and _oh_ , this, he loves this, though this particular arrangement is one he usually – happily – ends up watching rather than being in the middle of.

But being in the middle is good, too. So very good.

He can't hold back a little whimper as Cecil starts to stroke him harder, made all the more intense by the way Kevin's eyes go wide again at the sight of the pair of them.

"Please," the man mouthes, soundlessly.

"Soon," Carlos promises. "S– _oh, Cecil, like that_ …"

"Are you ready?" Cecil asks him.

" _Yes_ ," Carlos answers, aware he sounds a little wrecked himself now.

Cecil stops stroking him, leaving Carlos free to move himself right into place, and start to slowly, carefully, push into Kevin. The man is already so relaxed that it's easier than Carlos expected, and he curls in over him as soon as he can, so that Cecil, a few seconds later, can start sliding into _him_.

And, by Einstein, that feels _so utterly wonderful_.

" _Ohyes_ ," Kevin breathes, as the two men on top of him both start to move. He tugs on his wrists, but goes still as soon as he feels how firmly he's held, and that… oh, Carlos understands that all too well.

Sometimes it isn't about escaping. Sometimes it's just about knowing you can't.

"We have you, Kevin," Cecil tells him, his own voice cracking a little from the pleasure, but managing to sound so utterly in control at the same time. Which is all kinds of hot. "We have you. You're ours. I told you that from the start, and it's still true. Say it."

" _I'm yours_ ," Kevin gasps, that wonderful fervour back in his voice.

"Again."

" _I'm yours. Both of yours. I **promise**_."

"You are," Cecil affirms, softly. "All ours. And we love you _completely_. You don't have to be afraid of that, or of us."

Kevin doesn't seem able to speak at those words, though he nods several times nonetheless, and the joy and _relief_ in his eyes is equal parts bliss and agony to witness. Agony, because of what the man has been through, and bliss, because he's here with them.

Where he belongs.

"Oh, _Cecil_ , I'm so close," Carlos can't help gasping, now, as the pleasure rolling through his own body starts to reach breaking point.

Cecil loops an arm around and across Carlos' chest, holding him tight. "Ask me nicely," he breathes in Carlos' ear, and the only thing better than the way it makes Carlos feel is the flash of utter _delight_ in Kevin's eyes at his double's tone.

" _Please let me come_ ," Carlos nigh-on whimpers, just about managing to hold on to the spaces between the words. But only just.

"I never could deny you," Cecil tells him, the warm smile evident in his voice. "Come for me. For us _both_."

And Carlos does, within seconds, and the pleasure that races up to blaze through him is intense, making him cry out in bliss. He manages to keep moving most of the way through, wanting Kevin to feel the aftershocks of it, finally sinking into Cecil's embrace, barely able to hold himself up any longer.

"I love you," Cecil says, not letting go of him. "I love both of you. More than anything. More than _everything_. And no one will take _either of you_ from me…"

And the fervour in _Cecil's_ voice at that almost breaks Carlos on the spot, and visibly _does_ break Kevin, who stares up at the two of them like he's never been happier in his whole life. Carlos only has a moment to take it in, though, because the final thrust punctuating Cecil's words clearly leaves the man right on the edge of completion, and he cries out all of a sudden as his own climax overwhelms.

When it's over, Cecil curls down over the two of them, still holding onto Carlos and reaching to stroke gently over Kevin's skin wherever he can. For a good few minutes, none of them seems capable of anything resembling speech; Kevin being clearly out of his mind, and Carlos a good halfway, and Cecil… Carlos is still not even sure what's come over Cecil.

Just that he hopes whatever it is comes over him again at some point. Because. Because. Wow.

Eventually, Cecil pulls gently back and moves to lie at Kevin's side, whilst Carlos – after a moment – manages to do the same on Kevin's other side. And, for a time, they just stay like that; Carlos captivated by the distant, blissed-out look on Kevin's face, and Cecil seeming more than a little pleased by the same.

"How do you feel?" Cecil says, softly, to Kevin, tracing a gentle fingertip down the centre of his chest.

"Feel… good. Right. Good." Kevin manages a hazy smile of his own. "Free."

It's quite a statement for a man still handcuffed to the bed. But, at the same time, Carlos understands it.

"I'm glad," Cecil answers. "I wanted you to. You're safe with us, and you always will be."

"I… thank you," Kevin says, and Carlos is sure the man has something close to tears in his eyes now. "I mean it."

"We know," Cecil tells him, gently. "We know."

Then he reaches over to grip Carlos' hand, and smiles, and Carlos smiles back, and neither has to say a word to be understood.

They lie like that for another moment, close and comfortable, before Cecil finally strokes a hand along Kevin's arm. "Shall we let you go?" he asks, with a little grin.

"No," Kevin replies at once. "Never let me go. Except you meant… OK, yes. Maybe yes."

He's oddly adorable when he's flustered.

Cecil reaches to unlatch the cuffs, one by one, and then Carlos rolls Kevin onto his side and gathers him into his arms, letting Cecil spoon in behind him, so they've got the man held between them.

"That was… please do that again sometime," Kevin manages, eventually.

"I will," Cecil promises, leaning to kiss him on the jaw.

Kevin curls in tighter. "I'm… sorry for all those things I had to tell you."

"Don't be," Carlos replies. Implores, almost. "Don't ever be. I'm sorry we didn't ask you about it sooner."

"Maybe this was just the right time," Cecil says.

"Maybe it was," Carlos agrees. "Even though time doesn't exist."

That makes Kevin smile again. "I love you both so much."

"We know," Cecil tells him. "We love you too. Now… try to get a little more sleep, and know that you're safe here with us. That you will _always_ be safe here with us."

"Yes," Kevin says, softly, and going ever more distant. "Yes…"

And he slowly drifts off between them, breathing gently, and seeming more at peace than he has in a long time.

Cecil and Carlos meet eyes over their lover, and they don't even have to say another word. They just gently grip hands again, before letting sleep rise up to claim them too.

And, beyond the curtains, beyond the walls, the first fingertips of dawn start to light the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it... the sequence I've waited for so long to bring to you. I truly hope it worked.
> 
> And _now_? Well, now we can start moving into the main plot of this final part, and I am both excited and terrified by the prospect!
> 
> Coming Up Next In Chiralityverse: A weekend at Naomi's sounds like a welcome break. Fate has something else in mind, however...


	4. Repente

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Salutations, everyone! It's a midweek chapter surprise! I totally took a day off work to finish this one, because of how much I love you all. Also because the muses were hammering on the inside of my head even more than usual. Work hard, play hard! That's the motto, right..? ;-)
> 
> Keen-eyed readers will note that I have also added a dubcon tag to this one now, because of the continuing references to Kevin and Hartley's super-screwed-up relationship. I figured it was sensible.
> 
> And now, without further ado, let me take you back to that plot I promised...

**Repente**

_Suddenly_

***

It's a few days later.

At Naomi's invitation, Cecil, Carlos and Kevin have headed over to Desert Bluffs for the weekend. It's a welcome break, and long overdue.

It seems to do Kevin a world of good. The man has been different since that fateful night earlier in the week when he told them everything, but for the most part he's seemed better, not worse, as though he really does feel like a weight has been lifted off him.

And what a weight. Carlos catches himself thinking about it more than he would like, and every time he does he still can't quite process it all.

The weekend helps, though. Naomi and Darla are both excellent company, and they all have plenty of catching-up to do. There are even some drinks of an alcoholic nature on the Saturday night (though, thankfully, no karaoke).

They spend the Sunday out in town, enjoying the only-natural sunshine. Kevin takes them all to see his sister, Kirsten, and niece, Gillian, and they wander through the park, laughing and talking, and everything is so normal that even Carlos finds himself relaxing.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, they steer well clear of what used to be the Bloodstone Plaza. The terrible thing is long-gone now – a year tomorrow, Carlos remembers – but he's sure the place would still provoke memories that none of them would enjoy.

It's only after Kevin has said goodbye to Kirsten and Gillian, waving them off as they head home, that he turns to ask Naomi a question that must have been on his mind all afternoon.

"Are the messages still appearing?"

Naomi's expression grows a little more serious. "From time to time, yes," she answers.

"Messages?" Cecil repeats, and then he seems to remember. "Oh. The ones you mentioned last year?"

Naomi nods. "That's right. They pop up in various places around town every now and then, usually scrawled on walls or buildings, and always reading one of two things. ' _Behold the beautiful mountain_ ' or ' _think deeply about meadows_ '."

"The second one's an old Strexcorp slogan, isn't it?" Cecil says, expression darkening a little.

"Certainly is," Darla answers, eyes flicking over to her wife with just the barest trace of concern. "But no one's quite sure on the first one."

"Should we be worried?" Carlos asks.

"Hard to say," Naomi answers. "The messages have been appearing for months, but there's been no escalation. It's possible it's just the work of one or two individuals loyal to the _old_ Strexcorp. Our people are keeping an eye out. And Mayor McDaniels regularly reminds people in his press conferences that he will ' _burn them with fire and rage and vengeance_ ' if they turn against the town."

Cecil can't help a smile. "Sounds like Hiram," he says, not keeping the fond edge out of his voice.

"Yeah. I really like that guy," Darla remarks, grinning.

***

They head back to Naomi and Darla's place, up on the hill on the outskirts of Desert Bluffs, and before long they're partaking in another of Naomi's fabulous dinners; any edge of concern forgotten in favour of enjoying themselves. Naomi may not take after the rest of her family in many ways, but she certainly knows how to throw a good party, whether it's for five people or five hundred.

The food gives way to after-dinner coffee (and chocolates) and they sit on the couches in the main living room, as the sky gradually fades from blue to orange to black, lit with a scattering of stars.

And then comes the knocking at the door.

"Who could that be at this hour?" Naomi wonders aloud.

"You want me to go scare them off?" Darla offers. "I could tell them all about that thing I made down in the basement last week…"

She gives a wistful grin. Even Naomi looks mildly alarmed. "Maybe we should keep that one to ourselves. I'll go see who it is. Although, if it's those weird guys from the Joyous Congregation again, I can't promise I won't chase them down the hill at knifepoint…"

Darla grins even more at the suggestion, as Naomi gets up and heads out of the living room and into the main hall, leaving the rest of them where they are. They hear the front door open, and a moment of hurried conversation, and then Naomi calls through.

"Uh… Kevin? You might want to see this."

Looking a little surprised, Kevin now gets up and heads out too, leaving Cecil and Carlos to exchange a slightly alarmed glance, both silently wondering what's going on.

There's barely more than a moment's pause before they hear Kevin exclaim, " _You_!" in his most serious tone, followed almost immediately by a yelp, a scuffle, and a thud.

Cecil and Carlos leap to their feet at once, hurrying out into the hall with Darla following on behind. As they burst through, they see Kevin close to the open front door, knife drawn, with a second man on his back on the tiled floor, hand held up in a gesture that is half-defensive, and half-placatory. Naomi is nearby, gripping the hilt of her own knife as though she wants to draw it too, looking highly alarmed and only slightly disapproving. She glances at the rest of them as they pace over, her whole expression reading 'stay back' without her needing to say it.

Carlos stares at the man on the ground. He's sure he's never seen the guy before – not even back when he lived here – though it's clear from his rather violent reaction that Kevin knows _exactly_ who the man is. Said man is about their age, with pale skin and dark hair, and the telling obsidian-black eyes of a person born and raised in Desert Bluffs. He's dressed in a business suit, with an old-style Strexcorp pin-badge on his left lapel, and the very sight fills Carlos with fresh alarm.

"Give me _one good reason_ not to kill you on the spot!" Kevin exclaims. He has the front of the other man's jacket in one hand, his knife in the other, and he looks more than ready to make good on his threat.

"Because I've come to help you!" the man replies at once, sounding half-firm and half-afraid.

"Why should I believe a word you say?" Kevin retorts. "You're on the most-wanted list. You were Derek Hartley's PA for over twenty years!"

"And you were his damned fixer!" the man throws back. "We did what we had to do to stay alive. You of _all people_ should understand that!"

"Then why didn't you come in?" Kevin demands. "After the Bloodstone was destroyed, after the Management Board were killed… why didn't you come in?"

"I couldn't! I was being held prisoner!"

"By whom?"

"Zara and Tamsen Belmonte!"

Kevin lets go of the man immediately, taking a step back but not lowering his knife, and there's a long moment where the two of them glare at each other.

"Kevin?" Carlos says, softly, gripping hold of Cecil's hand at the same time. "Kevin… who is this person?"

" _This_ ," Kevin starts out, sharply, then seems to collect himself and pause, taking a deep breath. "This is Andrew Fletcher. He was Derek Hartley's PA. He disappeared immediately after the Battle of Night Vale and hasn't been seen since. Which would be why," and here his eyes go back to the floored man, with a pointed look, "he's _on the most-wanted list_."

"I know," Andrew says. "And if it had been up to me, I would have come in months ago. When the Bloodstone was destroyed… when my thoughts were my own again… I would have. I wanted to. But I was grabbed by enforcers working for the Belmonte twins, and taken to their base of operations, out beyond Corona Valley."

" _Why_?" Kevin demands, looking ready to pounce on the man with his knife again.

"Slow down, slow down," Cecil interjects, pacing closer. "The Belmonte twins are the daughters of one of the other Management Board members, yes?"

"Nina Belmonte," Naomi answers, still looking as though she'd rather like to get between Kevin and Andrew but doesn't quite dare just yet (which is certainly saying something). "She was one of the three who died at the HQ tower last year. Her two girls, Zara and Tamsen, disappeared a short while _before_ the Battle of Night Vale and haven't been seen or heard from since. I almost wondered if Lauren's people had killed them, the night of the purge, but somehow the thought never sat right. Plus my dear sister would no doubt have bragged about it."

"They're alive," Andrew confirms. He hasn't taken his eyes off Kevin yet, though this is somewhat understandable given the circumstances. "They were sent out of the city by Mr Hartley before he left, as the designated survivors."

Naomi bristles at that. " _I_ was the designated survivor."

Perhaps foolishly, Andrew rolls his eyes. "You weren't. You were sidelined because Mr Hartley didn't trust you."

For a moment, it looks like Naomi is about to go for him, but then she makes herself visibly pause, and take a deep breath. "Well, he shouldn't have left me alone and unwatched then, should he?" she all but hisses.

"No," Andrew agrees. "No, he really shouldn't have. He made more than a few mistakes in those final days."

"None of this explains what you're doing here _now_ ," Kevin points out. "You're saying the Belmonte twins have been holding you prisoner for, what? Over a _year_?"

"Yes," Andrew answers, more softly, and something about the weight in his tone makes Kevin finally relax just a little.

"How did you get out?" he asks, lowering his knife but not yet slipping it away.

Andrew looks pained. "They let me go. They let me go so I could deliver a message."

"To whom?"

"To _you_."

Carlos feels his blood go cold.

"What message?" Kevin pushes.

"I… I am not the only person they've been holding out in that hidden facility," Andrew admits. "There were two of us. The other… is a young woman who used to work with you."

Kevin goes pale, and takes another step back, slipping his knife into its sheath. "Who?" he says, though it's clear from his expression that he has a good idea. And that it isn't good at all.

"Her name is Vanessa," Andrew answers.

"You're lying," Kevin retorts, halfway between anger and terror. "You're lying. Vanessa died."

Andrew shakes his head. "She's alive, Kevin. I promise you."

Kevin turns away immediately, pacing a few steps off with his arms wrapped around himself, and Andrew takes the chance to scramble to his feet whilst he can.

"Vanessa?" Cecil says, softly. "Dana's double?"

Kevin nods, without turning. "Yeah. Dana's double. I thought she was dead. For real, this time. I thought…"

He trails off, and Carlos risks going over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. For a moment, Kevin doesn't react to it at all, and then he puts his hand over Carlos', turning to face him.

"Whatever this is, we can make it right," Carlos says, gently. "You don't have to deal with it alone."

Kevin doesn't quite seem able to answer this out loud, though he keeps hold of Carlos' hand for a moment, meeting his eyes and nodding. Then he lets go, moving closer to Andrew again.

"Tell me everything," he says, firmly. "Now."

"Zara and Tamsen have been holding Vanessa and me captive for the last year," Andrew starts out. "Sometimes together, sometimes apart. Enough that I got to know her, that I wouldn't want anything to…" He trails off, biting his lip, then takes a deep breath. "I didn't see much of what they were doing, but I know they have other people working for them, and I know they're working _towards_ something. Something big. And… and then, earlier today, they told me they would let me go. Told me I had to find you, to deliver a message. Told me Vanessa would die if I didn't."

"You still haven't told us what this message _is_ ," Naomi points out. "I think it's time you did."

Andrew nods. "I know, and this is it: The Belmonte twins are willing to return Vanessa, alive and unharmed, in exchange for something. Something that Mr Hartley owned. Something they need."

"And what is it?" Kevin demands.

"A planar orb."

Naomi curses out loud. Or, Carlos is pretty sure that's what she's doing, given her tone, but the words are definitely not in English. Kevin, meanwhile, turns immediately to his best friend, going paler still.

"Is that even possible?" he asks. "Did Mr Hartley… did he really have one of those?"

"I don't know," Naomi answers. "But it makes sense."

"What _is_ a planar orb?" Cecil interjects, trying to keep up.

"It's an object about… this big," Naomi says, gesturing in the rough shape of a sphere, slightly too large to sit comfortably in the palm of her hand. "They're _extraordinarily_ rare and incredibly difficult to create, and they can only be used once. If you have such a thing, you can break it apart, which will immediately create a one-way portal to another plane; specifically, whatever plane the orb comes from. If my father owned one of these things – and I can believe that he did – then it would no doubt open a portal to where he and the rest of the Management Board came from. The First Infernal Plane."

"Why would the twins want such a thing?" Carlos asks, thinking out loud. "Do you think they're looking for your sister? For Lauren?"

"It's possible," Naomi answers. "If Lauren is still alive on the First Infernal Plane, then it makes sense that they would want to ally with her. But a planar orb wouldn't let them bring Lauren – or anyone else – back here. It would just allow them to cross over to where she is."

"You think they're trying to run for it?" Cecil suggests.

Kevin shakes his head. "If those two have been planning this for over a year, the _last_ thing they would do is run for it. No. Whatever they're doing, it's bigger than that. And they have _precisely_ the right kind of leverage that would force me to help them."

The look in his eyes is bitter, and Carlos aches to see it.

"Why would your old man have one of these things?" Darla now wonders, moving closer to Naomi. "You think it was his get-out clause?"

"I'm sure of it," Naomi answers. "If something went wrong, if all else failed, he could have used it to get himself and the others back to the First Infernal Plane. Mom probably helped him make it, so… so he'd have an exit strategy after she was gone."

There's a heavy pause.

"Do you know where it might be?" Andrew risks asking.

"Do you?" Naomi counters. "You were his PA for over two decades. Did he ever mention anything like that?"

Andrew shakes his head. "No. No, he didn't. I didn't even realise he was anything other than human until Zara and Tamsen decided to tell me the whole terrifying story."

"That must have been fun for you," Kevin remarks, with an edge of that cheery tone to his voice that proves he's decidedly not OK.

"It wasn't," Andrew answers, and he sounds so hollow and alarmed that no one pushes the matter any further.

"What are we going to do?" Cecil asks. "If this Vanessa is in danger, we have to help."

"We do," Kevin agrees. "We have to. If she's really alive, if there's a chance I can save her… I have to. I _need_ to. But there's no way we can risk giving something as powerful as a planar orb to the twins."

"No, we can't," Naomi concurs. "But we still need to find it. We find it, and we use it to lure them out. And then we _take_ them out."

"But where would it be?" Cecil says. "Could it be in the Strexcorp HQ tower? In your father's old office?"

Naomi shakes her head. "I doubt it. The tower was badly wrecked by what happened last year, and then I had the remaining parts completely ripped out after I took over. Especially the entirety of the floor where my father's office used to be. It looks nothing like it did in his and Lauren's day. And, if the orb had been there – even if it was very well hidden – we would have found it."

Her eyes go first to Darla, and then to Kevin, as if she genuinely doesn't want to say what comes next. And there is little in the world more alarming than seeing Naomi Hartley look unsettled.

"I know what you're thinking," Darla says. "And you're probably right. The manor."

"The manor?" Carlos repeats.

Naomi nods. "Yes. The manor where my family lived. It's on the south-eastern outskirts of the city: a great big place in the middle of great big grounds." Her expression darkens. "Matches my father's great big ego…"

"Who owns it now?" Cecil asks.

"I do," Naomi answers. "Though no one's lived there since my father went to Night Vale at the end of the occupation. Lauren owned it during her brief tenure as Strexcorp CEO, but as far as I know she never touched the place. Kept on living in that ridiculous penthouse of hers. So… it's been vacant all this time."

"The orb has got to be there," Kevin says, a little quietly. "If Mr Hartley had something so powerful and valuable, and it wasn't at HQ… it will be at the estate."

"Most likely, yes," Naomi concurs. "Which means we need to go there and find it. Tonight."

Kevin does not look happy about this, and Carlos has a far better idea as to why than he would have done a week ago, and it isn't an enjoyable feeling.

"What are we supposed to do when we find it?" Kevin says to Andrew, somewhat accusative again.

"The twins weren't clear on that," Andrew replies. "They just told me that they'd be in touch."

"Now doesn't _that_ sound ominous?" Darla remarks.

It does.

"We have to go over to the estate," Naomi re-iterates. "As soon as possible. We have to find that orb and secure it, and then we can work out what to do when Zara and Tamsen make contact."

"Agreed," Kevin answers.

"What about me?" Andrew pushes.

"You're coming with us," Kevin says, before anyone else can get a word in. "I'm not letting you out of my sight."

Andrew seems like he's going to argue, but backs down silently at the look he gets from Kevin, and settles for a slightly sullen nod.

And, despite it all, Naomi manages a wry smile. "I'd better get the van."

***

It is not, of course, the same van. _That_ van – the one that served them so well during the Desert Bluffs revolution – ended its life covered in dragon claw-marks and embedded on its side, partway down a skyscraper. This one is pleasingly free of claw-marks and definitely the right way up.

But the connotations are still there. The _memories_. Naomi – of course – drives, with Darla next to her, leaving Cecil, Carlos, Kevin and Andrew in the back.

Carlos still doesn't know what to make of Andrew. It's clear that Kevin doesn't trust him, but at the same time it's hard not to have some sympathy for a man who must have been through a hell all of his own if he worked closely with Derek Hartley for two decades, and was then held prisoner for a further year.

Kevin, meanwhile, has got that level, false-calm expression he tends to resort to when any trace of his actual emotions would be dangerous. He sits with his head on Cecil's shoulder, barely speaking, looking for all the world to see as though he's ready for anything and not remotely affected by what's going on.

It really is very convincing. Not that Carlos is remotely fooled.

Eventually, they head into the south-eastern outskirts of the city, and soon they're turning onto a long, imposing driveway that leads up to a huge manor house, sitting in the centre of the estate. It stands, dark and silent, surrounded by obviously-overgrown gardens and strange, angular statues slowly being entwined in deep emerald ivy.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Darla murmurs.

No one argues.

Naomi parks the van close to the steps leading up to the main entrance. They all clamber out onto the tiled courtyard, with the house looming over them, and the dark night sky beyond. Moonlight plays over the rooftop, flickering down over the brickwork, as if offering tantalising and terrifying hints of something shadowed and yet hidden in plain sight.

Carlos shivers.

"It looks so… different without all the blood," Kevin manages. "I haven't been here since… since the day before I was sent out to Night Vale, and…"

He trails off, and Cecil immediately takes his hand. "Don't think about that," he says, gently. "Stay in the here and now. With us."

Kevin nods. "I'll do my best," he answers.

"There is no reason to assume we're in any danger at this point," Naomi says, her own voice a little hollow. "Nevertheless, try to remember that this house belonged to a highborn demon and one of the most powerful summoners in human history, and as such it is wise to take nothing for granted."

"And the first person who suggests we split up gets cursed," Darla adds, with a grin.

Somehow, getting cursed seems less alarming than the prospect of splitting up.

Naomi leads the way up the front stairs, unlocking the door with a pair of keys, and pushing it open to let them inside. Beyond, there is a wide, two-storey entrance hall, with a sweeping staircase leading to an upper gallery, and a number of doors. From where they're standing, double-doors to the right and left obviously lead into other rooms, and up ahead are three other single-doors, all of them closed.

There's furniture, too; draped in heavy dust sheets, as you would expect for a house whose occupant expected to be gone for several weeks.

Or forever.

"I… _Merciless Azatothoth_ , this place brings back so many memories," Kevin says. Cecil is still holding his right hand, and his left goes to rest on the hilt of his knife, his dark eyes resonant with history as he looks around. "I remember the first time I came here… Naomi and I met just beyond those double-doors. And over there is where I was treated after I got stabbed, during the first hostile takeover attempt. And…"

"Don't go back there," Carlos implores. "Time doesn't exist, remember? Stay here. Stay _now_."

Kevin manages a shaky nod. "Yes. Yes. You're right. We… we should do this quickly."

"Agreed," Naomi says. "But Darla's right, we mustn't split up. Just in case. We'll start with the two most obvious places to look… Dad's study, and the summoning hall."

"The _what_?" Cecil exclaims.

"The summoning hall," Naomi repeats. "My father used it a great deal. Mom too. And I got my fair share of time in there." A little smile crosses her face. "I taught Kevin some basic summonings in that hall. Back when he was still learning. It was how we bonded."

She headtilts towards one of the doors up ahead. "Come on. We'll go there first."

They pace slowly over the marble-tiled floor, staying close together. It's like walking through a mausoleum; cool and silent and still, and heavy with the weight of the past.

Carlos can't help thinking he's never been anywhere he disliked more, with the exception of the Bloodstone Plaza. And, considering some of the other places they've found themselves, this is saying something.

"You know, Zara and Tamsen told me what happened in Night Vale, the day of the battle," Andrew says, suddenly, eyes on Kevin. "I wasn't there for the battle itself, and neither were they, but some of their allies were. They said you turned on Mr Hartley in front of everyone. That you defied him and then set that ridiculous demon of yours on him. That you're the reason he's dead. Is that really true?"

"You already know it is," Kevin retorts, a hint of danger in his voice. "Why are you even asking?"

"It just seems so incongruous," Andrew replies. "I mean… you worshipped him from the moment you met. It was right there in your eyes, the first day you came to HQ, and it never went away. And don't even get me started on the part where you were _sleeping with him_ –"

Before he's even had a chance to _breathe_ , Kevin breaks away from Cecil, nigh-on yanks his knife from its sheath, then grabs hold of Andrew and slams him squarely into the nearest wall, blade pointed at his face. The sudden movement reverberates in the otherwise quiet and empty house, echoing into the distance.

"I was _brainwashed_ ," Kevin hisses.

"…conditioned…" Carlos whispers, unable to stop himself.

"… _conditioned_ ," Kevin repeats, still glaring at Andrew from close-up. "I was _mind-controlled_. Most of us were. _You_ probably were. Don't think for one second that I'm that person anymore. Because I'm not. And I would rather _die_ than go back to it. I would rather…"

"Kevin," Cecil interjects, softly, moving to put a hand on his double's shoulder (and sensibly choosing his right, so as not to interfere with his knife-arm when the blade is _that_ close to Andrew). "Kevin, take a breath. It's OK."

Kevin _does_ take a breath, though it's debatable whether it actually makes him any calmer. "You should just be thankful my boyfriends already know about all that," he growls at Andrew. "Because, if they didn't, you'd be the next in the long line of people whose blood I have spilt in this house. And I _wouldn't_ feel guilty about it."

He would. But that isn't the point right now.

"You know it was supposed to be me?" Andrew says, his voice oddly level.

"What was supposed to be you?" Kevin replies, tone still sharp.

"All of it," Andrew answers. "I was Terry Carver's first pupil. I was training with him before you came along, and working closely with Mr Hartley to boot. And then… and then _you_. You, with your innate skill and your impeccable smile and your radio show that everyone loved. You took _everything_ from me, and you left me cursed to watch it all unfold regardless."

Kevin actually takes a step back in shock, letting go of Andrew but not lowering his knife. "And what? You were _jealous_?!"

Andrew nods. "At the time. Yes. Yes, I was jealous. I was jealous right up until the point where my mind was free of the Bloodstone and I realised what had happened. And… then I wasn't."

Though there's an edge to his voice that suggests this might not be wholly true. Carlos only has to hope that it's for the same reasons that make some part of Kevin long for those days despite knowing the truth about them, and not something more worrying.

Because the former part is worrying enough.

There's a drawn-out moment before Kevin finally relents enough to lower his knife at last, backing off further. "Just be thankful that all you had to do was watch," he says, much more softly. "I'd give more than you can know if it meant I could have done the same."

Perhaps sensibly, Andrew chooses to answer this with nothing more than a silent nod, and it falls to Naomi to interject. "We should keep going," she points out, not unkindly. Indeed, she seems to be watching Kevin with increasing alarm. "The sooner we find this orb, the sooner we can leave this place for good."

They follow Naomi further into the house, no one talking now; not until they reach a set of double-doors at the end of a long passageway. Unlike all the other doors in the house, which are made of a paler wood, these are much darker, with a strange, twisted insignia carved deeply into them from top to bottom.

"This is it," Naomi says, and reaches to push the doors open. Despite seeming firmly sealed, and having no handles or visible lock, they open easily at her touch, and she leads the group through.

And all Carlos can do is stare. And _stare_. The room beyond is vast and high – maybe five or six storeys – with a vaulted roof like some immense cathedral. The whole place is made of stone, both floor and walls, and covered in carvings and symbols, and words in a script that Carlos can't identify. There are no windows to admit the glow of the moon, but groupings of candles in the corners of the room fill it with light. Somewhat worryingly, they do so the moment Naomi steps through the door, without needing to be lit, and the glow they give off far exceeds what should be possible for an illumination source of that size, and…

Possibly Carlos is fixating on the little details because his mind can't wrap around the much larger one. 'Larger' being the crucial word.

The hall is as huge as a full-size football field. And there is simply no way, even given that this is a pretty big house, that it could ever fit into the space it occupies.

"This…" Carlos manages. "… _How_? I… _physics_!"

Naomi pats him on the shoulder. "I told you my parents were unusual."

"Yes… but… _physics_!" Carlos tries again, a little more high-pitched.

"Oh, this is impressive," Andrew breathes. "I'd heard talk of Mr Hartley's summoning hall, but I never got to see it."

"Well, here it is," Naomi says, her tone slightly more clipped but not unkind. "The carvings are mostly protective wards. This place was used for some incredibly high-level rituals. If nothing else, Dad used to commune with the Smiling God in here…"

"That doesn't sound safe," Cecil manages.

"It isn't," is Naomi's answer.

"Why was your father so obsessed with it?" Carlos asks, because focusing on the motivations of highborn demons is somehow easier than trying to make sense of this room. This room that _doesn't make sense_.

Naomi gives a little shrug. "Even demons believe in something."

They pace further into the room, their footsteps echoing off the stonework, sounding ominous and otherworldly. 

"This place feels… weird," Cecil says, suddenly. "Like… arcing current, spiralling all around…"

Both Kevin and Naomi immediately look at him, Naomi's expression full of interest and Kevin's expression positively rapt.

"You can feel it?" Naomi says.

"Yes," Cecil answers, looking around as if searching for the source of something. "What… what _is_ that?"

"It's the wards encircling this place," Naomi tells him. "Very few – forgive me – humans can actually pick up on them. But I guess with your level of planar power…"

Carlos remembers the day that Kevin had first told Naomi what happened to Cecil in Nebolgorod. About the powers he suddenly manifested and what he was able to do with them. Ever since then, Naomi has kept her interest subtle, but it's clear she's acutely aware of what Cecil is capable of – perhaps even more so than he himself is.

"If we had the time, I'd say you should try summoning something in here," Kevin says, sounding more like himself than he has since they first arrived. "Given the strength of the warding… oh, Cecil, imagine what you could do…"

"…You really are the quintessential fanboy, aren't you?" Andrew interrupts.

"I'm also the quintessential practiced killer," Kevin points out, tone deadly-sweet. "So you can stop right now."

Mercifully, Andrew takes the hint.

"You think the orb could be in here?" Carlos finds himself asking, because changing the subject sounds like a sensible plan.

"It's possible," Naomi answers. "There's a vault at the far end, hidden in the stonework. If it's here, it's there."

They follow her across the impossibly-wide floor, eventually reaching the far wall. And here, amidst the wards, Carlos can now see a large circle carved into the stone, with a single symbol in the middle of it.

The old Strexcorp emblem: a triangle, containing a capital S.

Carlos shivers.

Naomi takes a deep breath, reaches out, and touches the centre of the emblem. And then she says something that Carlos can't understand.

"It's Dzy-an-thyl," Kevin explains. "It means… ' _open for the master of the hall_ '."

"Oooh, that's hot," Darla remarks, with a wicked grin.

The carved circle suddenly slides back and away, revealing a hidden space beyond; clearly the vault that Naomi spoke of. Inside are a couple of very old-looking books, an amulet of some kind (the kind that no one in their right mind would even _look_ at for too long, never mind touch or wear) and something made of folded yellow cloth.

"Darn," Naomi murmurs. "It isn't here. And now I have to find a way to get rid of that amulet…"

"You know what it is?" Kevin asks, looking with academic interest.

"Nope," Naomi answers. "But there's no way it's good news. Ah well. That's for future-me to worry about. For now, I'll just seal this thing back up before anything gets out…"

Best not to ask. And given that Cecil has taken a marked step away, Carlos is just happy that they _don't_ have to worry about any of this stuff right now.

They have enough to worry about already, after all.

"Right," Naomi says, more brightly, turning back to them. "The study it is."

***

The study it isn't. They get there – Kevin going alarmingly quiet again – and search the place, but there's no sign of the planar orb. Not even in the safe hidden behind a giant family portrait above the fireplace, although it does contain another of those weird amulets (which makes Naomi say something slightly stronger than 'darn' this time).

So they search elsewhere. They search a huge living room filled with elegant couches, and a dining hall panelled in golden wood, and then they reach a stairway tiled in marble, with a broad mezzanine balcony that makes Kevin flat-out freeze, and only Cecil's hand on his shoulder seems to drag his mind back from wherever it's gone.

"You should… maybe wait outside," Naomi suggests, catching the reaction.

"…I'm fine…" Kevin lies.

Cecil all but drags him out of the room before he can protest, and soon they're sitting on the steps just outside the manor, staring up at the night sky. Andrew, perhaps mercifully, stays with Naomi and Darla, so at least the three of them have a few moments alone.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Cecil asks, gently, wrapping an arm around Kevin and pulling the man in against his shoulder.

"I really am fine," Kevin insists, even though it's obvious he isn't. "I just… this place brings back a lot of memories."

"We know," Carlos says, curling in on Kevin's other side. "Maybe we shouldn't have come…"

"No, no, we should," Kevin says. "I've wondered for a long time what it would be like. Now I know. So… now I don't have to wonder anymore. Besides… whatever it takes to get Vanessa back, I have to do it. I have to save her."

"Earlier… you said you thought Vanessa was dead 'for good'," Cecil starts off. "What happened to her?"

Kevin sighs, and looks down. He's silent for a moment, until – without looking up – he says, "Strex sent her to work for me about… oh, a year or so before Carlos and I first met. She was young and bright and full of hope and _such_ a great fit for the radio station. But she died, after only a few weeks, and I thought that was that, only… the next day, she just waltzed back into work like nothing had happened. I couldn't fathom what was going on. Sure, people _disappearing_ wasn't exactly unusual, but when they _died_ right in front of you, they were dead. Not Vanessa. Over the years… I lost count of how many times I saw her die. It happened over and over and _over_ and, without fail, she'd saunter back into the station the next day like nothing had happened. She'd never remember the incident that claimed her life, but she'd remember pretty much everything leading up to it. It was as if the part where she died just… fell out of reality, for everyone but me."

All Carlos can do is stare at Kevin's bowed head in horror.

"You… had to watch her die, over and over?" Cecil manages. "I mean… with the interns… it's usually only once, but…"

"Over and over," Kevin answers. "And in between, we worked together for long enough to become good friends. And still, every week or two… she'd die. And then she'd come back. And…"

Cecil reaches to pull Kevin upright, wrapping him into a hug. "Why did you think she was permanently dead this time?" he asks, very gently.

"Lauren told me," Kevin answers. "When I came back to Desert Bluffs to rescue Kirsten. Before she… before she made me touch the Bloodstone. Before the two of you caught up with me. She told me Vanessa was dead for good and that it was my fault. But now… if she's alive… if I can really save her… I have to. There's too many people I can't do that for. If I can do it for her… that's a victory they can't take away from me."

"You also saved two towns from Strexcorp and your demon killed the man who mind-controlled you for years," Carlos points out.

"Very true," Kevin says, a little less heavily. "I couldn't have done it without both of you, though."

"And you won't have to save Vanessa without us, either," Cecil replies. "You don't have to face anything alone ever again."

Kevin curls in tighter at that. "I love you both so much."

"We know," Cecil tells him. "We love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Finally being able to let Kevin and Andrew have the fight that Andrew has wanted to have for _years_ was more cathartic than I expected! Turns out I missed that guy.
> 
> Coming Up Next In Chiralityverse: Our heroes work out where the planar orb must be and set off to find it, but soon they have a much larger problem to deal with...


	5. Senza Misura

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your eyes do not deceive you, dear reader. Two chapters in a week! This is testament to how much this fic is eating my soul right now.
> 
> And, that being the case, have some more plot...

**Senza Misura**

_Without Measure_

***

The planar orb is nowhere to be found in the manor, and – eventually – Naomi seems ready to accept as such. It's something of a relief, therefore, that they can leave the place far behind them, and return to Naomi and Darla's house.

It feels so much more normal. So much safer. Carlos is certainly relieved to see it.

"What do we do now?" Darla wonders aloud, as they all pace back inside.

"Good question," Andrew replies. "Where else can we look? If the orb wasn't at the HQ tower and it wasn't at the manor, where would it be? Surely Mr Hartley would have wanted to keep it close?"

All of a sudden, Kevin claps a hand to his mouth for a moment, the expression in his eyes highly complicated. "Merciless Azatothoth, why didn't I think of this before?" he exclaims.

"Think of what?" Cecil asks.

"Andrew's right," Kevin starts off, looking not wholly pleased by the words. "Mr Hartley _would_ have kept the orb close. And that's why it's not here. Because it isn't in Desert Bluffs at all."

"Oh… _oh_ ," Cecil says, as the same realisation dawns in his eyes. A realisation which also dawns on Carlos at precisely that moment. "Of course. Oh, why _didn't_ we think of that sooner?"

"It's in Night Vale," Kevin continues. "Mr Hartley was living in Night Vale when he died. He and the Management Board moved out there to oversee the final stages of the takeover. So it stands to reason that he took the orb with him… which means it's almost certainly in the Night Vale branch of Strex HQ. That building opposite City Hall."

"It's still there?" Naomi says, looking surprised.

"Oh yes," Cecil answers. "No one wanted to go near it. City Council declared it off-limits and had it permanently shrouded in a heavy orange canvas. Like the black velvet they drape on City Hall every night, but… less cool."

"Doesn't that make it terribly conspicuous?" Naomi asks.

Cecil shrugs. "Yes. But I think City Council want people to keep noticing it. So what happened with Strex never happens again."

"Can we get inside it?" Darla says.

"We should be able to," Cecil answers. "If nothing else, Mayor Cardinal will be able to get us permission."

"All right," Naomi says, with a nod. "Then it's settled. We'll head over to Night Vale first thing in the morning – it's far too late now – and get into that building. Once we have the orb, we can work out what to do about Zara and Tamsen. And how to get Vanessa back."

"What about me?" Andrew asks, carefully.

"What about you?" Kevin replies. "You stay where I can keep an eye on you until all this is over."

Andrew looks alarmed. "Look… I have family left in town," he says. "I need to see them. I need them to know I'm OK. I've been gone over a _year_."

"How about this?" Naomi cuts in. "You can go, but I'm sending two of my personal enforcers with you. Partly to keep an eye on you, and partly for your own protection. You _are_ still on the most-wanted list, after all. They'll keep you safe, and they can bring you back in once we have the orb."

Andrew nods. "All right. Thank you," he says.

If nothing else, keeping him and Kevin away from each other is probably wise at this point.

***

With Andrew taken off by two of Naomi's most trusted (and, Carlos notices, _tallest_ ) enforcers, the rest of them try to get a reasonable night's sleep.

It is not easy. They're all worried by what's going on, and Kevin is clearly not OK, which means both Carlos and Cecil are worried for him, too.

It's almost a blessing when morning comes. Naomi makes them all breakfast (and there's something soothingly familiar about that) and then they prepare to leave. Given that the three men came here in Cecil's car, they set out home in it, with Naomi and Darla following along behind in Naomi's van.

The sun beats down as they drive, bright and hot, and Kevin – certainly – seems to feel better for it. He sits leaning against the car window, eyes closed for a while as the light plays over his face, and Carlos wonders what he's thinking. He'd ask, but the other man looks calmer than he has all day, and he doesn't want to break the moment.

It's only after he's been drifting a little himself, in idle thought, that Carlos realises he can hear something: a sound on the edge of his awareness, distant but constant. A low, sonorous thrumming, subtly blending into…

…into…

Kevin's eyes snap open and he sits bolt upright. "Tell me you can hear that," he says, voice heavy with sudden terror.

"I hear it," Carlos replies, panic striking at his heart so hard that it knocks him dizzy.

"Me too," Cecil answers. "I…"

Kevin yanks his phone from his pocket and speed-dials. "Darla? Darla, tell me you… _Merciless Azatothoth_ , no… Cecil, Cecil, pull over!"

Cecil swerves the car off the road and onto the rough desert ground beside it, coming to a halt in a swirl of dust. Carlos turns in time to see Naomi's van do the same, pulling in behind them, and then all five of them start yanking open doors and scrambling from their respective vehicles.

"You can all hear it?" Naomi says. "When Darla told me… when she… I didn't believe her at first. But…"

"We can all hear it," Kevin answers, sounding like his whole world is falling apart. "We need to see… we need to know… _I need to know_ …"

There's a ridge nearby, rising up from the road, and Kevin suddenly turns and hurries up it, with the others following on after him. At the top, beyond the desert plains and empty ground, there's a view out over Night Vale itself, and – at the sight of it – Kevin falls to his knees in sheer, speechless horror.

Within a few seconds, Carlos is close enough to see why. They all are.

Night Vale lies ahead of them, bathed in the blazing sunshine, but somehow that light is drowned out by a second light, a different light… a bright, deep-red light that glows from the city core, shimmering in the heat, and reflecting off the buildings as they stand, for all to see, utterly drenched in blood.

"What..?" Cecil gasps, the only one of them able to get a word out. "That's… _masters of us all, **no**_ …"

Carlos can hardly bear the sight, his stomach lurching hard as the memories hit, followed swiftly by the implications, but he can't look away. He can't, despite how much the view hurts, despite the terror burning at his core.

Night Vale looks just like Desert Bluffs once did; _sounds_ just like Desert Bluffs once did, and now Carlos understands precisely what he can hear.

It's the song of the Bloodstone; the murmur of angels and the broken roaring beneath.

It's back.

"Tell me this is a dream," Kevin finally manages, the horror in his voice almost unmatched in Carlos' memory. "Tell me this is a _nightmare_."

"It's real," Naomi says, quiet and shocked, and Carlos is confident he's _never_ heard Naomi Hartley sound like that. "I don't know how they did it, but… they raised the second Bloodstone. The one buried under Night Vale since 1953. They…"

"…Make it not be real…" Kevin whispers, _pleads_. "Make it not be real…"

His tone clearly snaps Cecil out of his own terrified haze, and he steps over to Kevin at once, tugging him to his feet and wrapping him in a tight hug. "We'll destroy it," he says, desperately trying to reassure his double. "We'll destroy it, like we did the first one. We know how. We can do it. I promise you."

Cecil's eyes go to Naomi over Kevin's shoulder, silently begging her to agree.

"We will," Naomi says, taking a deep breath, letting resolve slip back into her tone. "Cecil's right, Kevin. If we can take out the first Bloodstone with minimal resources and up against the full might of Strexcorp-that-was, we can take out this second one and whatever the Belmonte twins are defending it with."

"You think this is them?" Darla asks.

"You bet your life I do. I knew Andrew turning up at our door precisely when Kevin, Cecil and Carlos were with us seemed a little convenient. The twins must have known they were out of town. Known they would be able to raise that _thing_ whilst the people best suited to stop it were oblivious over in Desert Bluffs. And then they sent Andrew as a further distraction…"

"If he's in on it…" Kevin starts out, the first time he's managed anything beyond abject terror.

"It's possible," Naomi agrees. "Or it's possible his story was true, as far as he knows it, and they used him too. Either way, we need to find that planar orb, because it clearly figures into whatever is going on here. And then… then we deal with this. And we _will_ deal with this."

"What about everyone in Night Vale?" Carlos suddenly asks, fresh horror hitting him. "Will they..?"

"The second Bloodstone can't have been in the sunlight for long," Naomi points out. "Even if they raised it right after you left town on Friday afternoon, that's barely more than two days. And that means the thing isn't fully powered yet. The townspeople are likely still at least partly lucid – maybe entirely lucid if they're away from the city core."

"My family," Cecil gasps. "I have to find them. I have to make sure they're…"

He's interrupted by the sudden beep of a cellphone, and Carlos jumps when he realises it's his. "Oh," he murmurs, pulling the phone from his pocket. "It's a text message."

"Who from?" Cecil asks.

"It's an unknown number," Carlos answers. "And it just says 'nine-point-four'. That's a little cryptic… oh. _Oh_."

"You know what it means?" Naomi asks.

"I think so," Carlos replies, feeling a sudden spark of hope. "When I first came to Night Vale – when I moved here – the first scientific work I did was an investigation into the weird earthquakes that happen in the town. The ones no one can feel, but which register on all the seismometers. I took the seismometers apart to see what was wrong with them, but nothing was. The earthquakes just… happen. And the one that happened right after I arrived, that made me start looking into it in the first place, registered nine-point-four on the Richter scale. It was so weird, I talked about it for weeks. Which means I'm confident this message comes from one of my team… and that we'll find them in the seismic monitoring station."

Naomi nods. "Where is it?"

"Outside the city, in the desert, off to the east."

"Good," Naomi answers. "That means anyone there should still be thinking clearly. Or, as clearly as is possible under the circumstances. We should go at once. Keep the car and the van close together and don't stop. No matter what you see. Don't stop until we get there."

With a plan in mind at last, they don't linger, heading back down the ridge and climbing into their vehicles. Carlos pulls Kevin into his arms once they're both inside, and as he does he can feel how much the man is shaking.

"It's going to be all right," he whispers, whilst hoping to whatever powers lie beyond the universe that he's not wrong. "It's going to be all right."

***

Mercifully, their route out to the seismic monitoring station requires them to skirt around the edge of the city, meaning that the terrible song in their heads remains a little distant, and they don't have to see too much of what's happened to Night Vale in the last couple of days.

Though Carlos knows they can't avoid it forever. Knows this surely ends with them in the city centre, standing in front of the second Bloodstone. Knows that he has to accept it, to have any chance of dealing with all this.

And he has to stay strong. He has to stay strong to make sure Kevin doesn't fall apart.

Eventually, the two vehicles turn off the road and into an empty, dusty car park, which stands next to a small concrete building. It's barely more than twenty feet square, but this is because the building itself is only an entry point. The actual monitoring station is underground.

"Follow me," Carlos tells them, as they step out into the hot sunlight.

He leads the other four into the concrete building, which consists of a blank entry lobby with the entrance to a single elevator, and nothing else.

"Tell me this isn't the only way in," Naomi says, sounding concerned.

"It's the only way _in_ ," Carlos answers. "But there are several ways _out_. You can't access them from the outside, but you can if you're already in the station." He gives a little shrug. "Escape routes are essential. Some of the scientists are quite paranoid."

Stepping up to the metal doors, he taps the access code into the panel and then hits the button to call the elevator. It arrives after a moment – with a cheery little _ding_ – and they all step inside, before the doors close and they begin to descend some distance.

"Oh… it's quieter down here," Cecil remarks. "The song, I mean. It's still there, but… subtler."

It's a small mercy, but it's something.

Eventually, the lift reaches the monitoring station, and the doors slide open… and they suddenly have a whole flurry of _blowdarts_ pointed in their faces.

"Don't move," comes the cool, level voice of Sheriff Sam.

"It's us!" Cecil insists, holding up his hands – and not-so-subtly stepping in front of Carlos and Kevin.

"Prove it," Sam demands.

"Nine-point-four!" Carlos calls out, before things can get out of control. "Nine-point-four!"

None of the blowdarts are lowered at this, but there's an immediate shout of " _Carlos_!" and a figure in a labcoat comes barrelling through the line of Secret Policepeople, without the slightest thought for their own safety. Or any other consequences.

It's Frederick, of course.

"Frederick, why are the Secret Police here?" Carlos asks, keeping his own hands up so Sam and their officers don't overreact.

"Lots of people are here," Frederick says, and then turns to Sam. "Sheriff, you can let them in."

Sheriff Sam does not look wholly convinced. "I'll be the judge of that," they say, and then they pause for a moment. "I've decided to let you in. But I'm watching you all. _Carefully_. Especially you, _Naomi Hartley_."

"Sheriff," Naomi says, with a cool nod. "Always a pleasure."

"What do you mean 'lots of people are here'?" Carlos now says to Frederick, trying to get things back on track.

"You should come see," Frederick replies.

Equal parts perplexed and hopeful, Carlos lets Frederick lead him deeper into the station, with the others following along behind. There's a short corridor leading from the elevator to the central chamber, which is wide and large; at least four storeys high (helpful in making it feel more roomy than oppressive). A number of doors line its periphery, leading off to different laboratories and other parts of the station, although they're mostly obscured right now by the vast crowd filling the central chamber itself.

"Merciful Einstein," Carlos breathes. "How many people are in here?"

Frederick gives an easy shrug. "A couple of hundred, at least. Good thing Bill is so prepared, or we'd be worrying about food reserves. As it is, his Cloud Apocalypse Repository will keep the whole lot of us going for at least a week."

"But… how did they all get here?" Cecil now asks.

Before Frederick can start answering this, there's a shout of, "Cecil!" from somewhere in the middle of the crowd, and a familiar figure comes hurrying over.

It's Steve Carlsberg, of course. He doesn't pause to speak again, going right up to Cecil and flinging his arms around his brother-in-law, hugging him tight.

Cecil doesn't even try to prise him off. He goes weirdly tense, but no more than that, and his expression is unusually sympathetic when Steve finally steps back.

"We've been so worried," Steve says. "About all of you. No one could reach you, and we knew you were out of town, and then we were scared that someone might go after you and…"

"Steve, Steve, slow down," Cecil interrupts, though not harshly. "What happened? Tell us what happened."

Steve takes a deep breath, exchanging a look with Frederick. "This guy was the first to realise something was wrong," he starts out, giving the scientist a nod. "He called me late on Friday night and said he could hear a weird sound. Said he didn't think anyone else would believe him, but he knew I would. I went to meet up with him at the science centre and the closer I got into the middle of town, the more I started to notice it. The _hum_."

"Why didn't you call us?" Kevin says, the first time he's spoken since they got here. The great crowd of rescued people and the distance from the centre of Night Vale seems to be helping him, but he still looks pale and shaken.

"We tried!" Steve answers. "We tried, but we couldn't get through. Those two crazy women must have managed to put up one of the communication jamming fields that Strexcorp always liked. The same kind they used during the revolution."

Carlos nods. "It makes sense. We think they deliberately chose to act when we were out of town, so it stands to reason they'd make sure you couldn't reach us."

"When did the second Bloodstone appear?" Kevin asks, softly.

Steve looks down for a moment, as if he can't quite meet Kevin's eyes, knowing what connotations the Bloodstone has for him. Or, knowing some of them, at least.

Carlos can't even bear to think about the ones only he and Cecil – and Naomi – know.

"Early on Saturday morning," Frederick answers. "Steve and I got in touch with some of the old crowd, and we all met up at the labs to discuss what to do, and in the middle of it… in the middle of it the tremors started. Tremors we could all feel. We tracked them to the source – the square in front of the Dog Park – but we were too late. By the time we got there, those two crazy women had the whole place covered in sigils, and five actual _monoliths_ had appeared out of nowhere, and they performed some kind of scientifically-implausible ritual. Raised the second Bloodstone right out of the ground."

"You saw it happen?" Carlos asks.

Frederick nods. And even though the man is utterly unflappable, unfazed by nearly everything, there's a flicker of genuine alarm hiding behind his eyes right now. "Yes. And then we ran for it. We called up everyone we knew and told them to get as far away from the city centre as possible. And then the comm-jamming got _worse_ , and our phones stopped working altogether, so we just ran round finding anyone we could."

"It was Frederick's idea to come out to this place," Steve adds, clapping the scientist on the shoulder. "He said it was remote and secure, and well-stocked because one of your guys lives here all the time, and…"

"All the time?" Naomi interrupts.

"Yeah," Carlos answers. "Bill. He's been on the team since long before I joined. Super-competent. Also utterly convinced that the clouds are out to get him. So… he lives down here, in the monitoring station."

"That's kinda cool," Darla says, with a grin.

"It's very sensible, too," comes a new voice, and a man paces over to join them. He's tall and thin, with close-cropped brown hair, and wearing a labcoat. "Those clouds could be up to _anything_."

"Hey, Bill," Carlos greets him. "Good to see you."

"Likewise," Bill answers.

People are often very confused by Bill. This would be because, for the most part, he's actually one of the more level-headed members of the team… with the exception of the whole clouds-out-to-get-him thing. Indeed, compared to Frederick or Vincent, Bill is borderline _normal_.

"Naomi, Darla, this is Bill," Carlos introduces him. "Bill, this is Naomi and Darla Hartley, from Desert Bluffs."

"Delighted," Bill tells them, with a smile. "I've heard the stories, of course. Carlos talks about you a lot."

"So… you started taking all these people in?" Naomi asks.

Bill nods. "Sure did. Frederick managed to get a message to me by piggybacking off those signal boosters still floating out in the desert, and I started prepping for arrivals. And then…"

He gestures back at the crowd of people, many of whom have fallen silent and are now watching the exchange.

"And… everyone else?" Cecil asks.

"We don't know," Steve replies, with a sombre flicker to his tone. "We got as many people as we could. All the old crowd's here, that's for sure."

Cecil looks relieved. "So… Caitlin and Janice?"

"Here," Steve confirms, and from his tone it's clear that he'd be out battling through Hell itself to find them, if they weren't. "So are Old Woman Josie and Larry Leroy and John Peters – you know, the farmer? And–"

"Cecil!"

It's Dana. She comes hurrying through the crowd, moving to hug Cecil at once, smiling as she steps back.

"Dana," he greets her, warmth and relief in his tone. "Are you OK?"

"As much as I can be," she answers. "I've spent the last two days trying to keep everyone together whilst we worked out what to do. And whilst we tried to reach you."

"I'm almost up to that part," Frederick says. "So we gathered up everyone we could and brought them here… though we had to keep stopping once the bloodrain started, because no one would go out in it except for me. And _then_ I started sending messages to you, Carlos, in the hope one of them would get through."

"It did," Carlos tells him. "Not until we got close to Night Vale, but it did. It wasn't from your number, though."

"Oh, that's just one of my burner-phones," Frederick answers, calmly. "Steve's right, they really _are_ useful to have!"

Cecil rolls his eyes. Carlos limits his reaction to smiling and nodding.

"What do we do now?" Steve asks. "We can hole up here for a while, but not indefinitely, and we don't know who those two crazy women are, or what they're doing to Night Vale."

"We know who they are," Kevin says. He sounds much more normal as he speaks, much more like himself, though Carlos is sure he's just doing it because he doesn't want to let on how affected he is by all this. "Zara and Tamsen Belmonte. Twin daughters of Nina Belmonte, one of the five original members of the Strexcorp Management Board."

"…Half-demon?" Steve surmises.

Naomi nods. "Oh yes. They've been AWOL since just before the Battle of Night Vale. Turns out they were preparing some kind of backup operation in case things went badly for Strex."

Dana's eyes go immediately to Naomi. "You already knew something was going on," she says, and it isn't a question.

"We did," Naomi answers. "We were contacted last night by a man called Andrew Fletcher, who was my father's PA for twenty years, and who has also been missing since the Battle of Night Vale. He claimed he'd been held prisoner for the last year by Zara and Tamsen, and said that they'd let him go so he could bring a message to us. Well. Primarily to Kevin."

Kevin takes a step forward, trying to meet Dana's eyes, and it's obvious he's not all right. "Your double," he says, softly. "Vanessa. I knew her for many years. I thought she was dead. But Andrew told us… he said she's alive, and that Zara and Tamsen have her. He said they were willing to release her in exchange for something that once belonged to Mr Hartley. A planar orb."

"…That sounds bad," Dana says, watching Kevin with concern on her face.

"It is," he answers. "It can be used – though only once – to open a portal to the First Infernal Plane."

"That _is_ bad," Steve breathes. "You think they're trying to bring something through?"

"Mercifully, it's a one-way portal," Naomi tells him. "They could get _to_ the First Infernal Plane, but not let anyone back in. We think they might be trying to find Lauren. There's no telling what happened to her when she ended up over there, though there's every chance she's alive and well. And _cross_. Either way, that orb would let them find out."

"Even in death, your father casts a long shadow," comes another voice.

It's Old Woman Josie, approaching through the crowd. There are several figures at her back: tall and winged, glowing with impossible black light.

Angels. Cecil gives a little squeak of alarm and steps behind Kevin.

"He does," Naomi concedes, and then gives Josie a careful nod. "Josie."

"Naomi," comes the reply. "I must say, it's a relief to see you all."

"You know, you people really are _dreadful_ at staying on topic," Sheriff Sam interrupts, moving to the front of the group – having apparently been watching this exchange the whole way through. Their blowdart is holstered again, but it's clear that Night Vale's new lawkeeper is still on edge.

"It's our process, Sam," Dana insists.

"Be that as it may, I'm still not at all convinced any of these newcomers are good news," Sam replies. "Especially given that they knew something was going on _yesterday_ and kept it to themselves."

"We didn't know anything was happening _here_!" Cecil replies. "We only found out when we tried to come home."

Sam folds their arms. "Nonetheless. This town is in the thrall of some _truly_ messed-up interlopers, Cecil, and I for one would prefer to act, rather than hide in a bunker."

" _Seismic monitoring station_ ," Frederick corrects. "I told you, it's a seismic monitoring station. And we're not hiding, we're plotting."

"…We're hiding a little," Steve says, with a headtilt. "Just until we work out what to do next."

"What _do_ we do next?" Josie asks, in the calm, level voice she uses when gently nudging a conversation back on track.

"We find that planar orb," Kevin answers. "We believe it's hidden away inside the old Strex HQ building here in Night Vale."

"That place is off-limits," Sam interjects. "No one is allowed inside."

"I think maybe you could make an exception today," Darla points out, dryly.

Sam does not look impressed. "I am not having someone from _Desert Bluffs_ affecting security policy in this town."

"Sam," Dana says, gently. "You _could_ make an exception today."

There's a drawn-out pause, and then Sam nods. "Fine. But I will not be held responsible if something in there eviscerates you all. Or worse." A beat. "Also, I'm coming with you."

Kevin gives the sheriff a flat look. "That's a bad idea."

"It's an excellent idea," Sam insists. "That's why I had it."

"…Fine," Kevin says, his tone becoming deceptively cheerier by the minute. "But _we_ are not being held responsible if something in there eviscerates _you_. Deal?"

Sam appears to consider this. "Deal."

And now, Carlos has to ask the question that no one seems quite able to give voice to. "What about the second Bloodstone?"

"We destroy it," Naomi answers, calmly. "We destroy it just like we destroyed the last one. _Exactly_ like we destroyed the last one, in fact, because I still have the device you and Frederick built. The nullifier."

"Oh!" Frederick exclaims, looking alarmingly delighted. "The nullifier!"

Naomi nods. "The very same. And the resonator that Kevin used to shatter the first Bloodstone once and for all. It's in storage at our place, in Desert Bluffs. Darla and I will go back for it whilst the three – sorry – four of you go to find the planar orb."

"I'd better come with you," Frederick says. "Someone needs to look over that tech before we use it again. Make sure it's in good shape."

"And Frederick _is_ our mystical-rocks guy," Bill points out.

"My thoughts exactly," Naomi agrees.

"I'm coming too," Steve insists. "You guys might need backup getting in and out of town, and I have Bharaeiogh if things go south. Plus… you know, original team and all…"

"You better be careful, Steve Carlsberg," Cecil says, firmly.

"I'm always careful, Cecil. You know that," Steve answers, clapping his brother-in-law on the arm.

"…This is a _remarkably_ coherent and sensible plan," Josie says, with a twinkle in her eye.

Naomi gives a little shrug. "What can I say? I'm good at revolutions. And insurgencies."

"And breakfast," Carlos mutters, not quite able to stop himself.

"It _is_ a remarkably coherent and sensible plan, though," Frederick agrees. "Anyone else think there might be a catch?"

"Don't tempt fate, Frederick," Carlos says at once.

The last thing they need right now is any more complications.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been waiting and waiting for an opportunity to get Bill the scientist into this 'verse. He originally appeared in _Sand and Mirrors_ and was far too much fun to write, though his particular circumstances made getting him into this one a little tricky! Luckily the seismic monitoring station was the perfect place to hide everyone as the latest disaster unfolds.
> 
> Speaking of, bonus points if you remembered that I still hadn't dealt with the second Bloodstone! It's been one of the most major unfired Chekhov's Guns in this 'verse, so I'm glad to have finally fired it at last! I don't think the muses are quite so happy, however. Also, just to allay any concerns, this one is most definitely not going to turn into a retread of _Songs of the Enantiomers_. Even if the poor muses seem to think otherwise at this point. *ominous face of ominousness*
> 
> Coming Up In Chiralityverse: That planar orb isn't going to find itself...


	6. Con Bravura

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, hello again, dear readers. I'm back! I bring another chapter today, and it's jam-packed with plot. It also contains a little cameo that I think fans of _Three Strikes_ will appreciate. :-)
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

**Con Bravura**

_Boldly_

***

Those who have to leave the seismic monitoring station begin making preparations.

All of them know they need to get moving, but none of them are actually quick about it; testament, perhaps, to what they know they're facing. And what it reminds them of. Even the unflappable Naomi Hartley seems a little concerned by what's going on – it isn't obvious unless you know her well, but the way Darla keeps gripping her hand speaks volumes if you do.

Cecil goes off to speak to his sister and his niece, obviously needing reassurance that they're as OK as is possible at this point. Kevin, meanwhile, keeps himself busy – and therefore distracted – by talking to Naomi and Darla about their side of the mission.

Which is mostly thinly-veiled cover for the fact that he's worried about them. And Desert Bluffs in general. "I'll make sure Mayor McDaniels martials all the security forces in town," Naomi promises, clearly understanding. "Don't you worry. And I'll put the full resources of Strexcorp at his disposal. The Belmonte twins will not lay a finger on Desert Bluffs. And as soon as we've taken out the second Bloodstone, we'll send as many people as we can to Night Vale, to help take it back. One greater metropolitan area, remember?"

"I remember," Kevin says, though he's still clearly rattled.

When Cecil comes back, he has both Caitlin and Janice in tow, and – of course – Steve too. "No one's been able to get in touch with Nebolgorod," Cecil says, without preamble, and Carlos could kick himself for forgetting that part. "Do you think you and your scientists could get a signal through? Just enough for us to be sure Hunter and Earl and the others are OK?"

"Of course," Carlos says, gripping Cecil's hands. "Frederick, Bill? Come help me with this…"

Between the three of them, it doesn't take too long. Frederick already has a lot of the frequency work done – given that he managed to get a message through to Carlos in the first place – so with some additional input from Bill, who is unsurprisingly good at anything to do with being underground, it's not a complex process.

Eventually, the three scientists head back over to where Cecil is sitting with his family, trying to stay distracted.

"Did it work?" he asks.

"We think so," Carlos answers. "I don't know how long the signal will hold for, but it should be enough for a phonecall."

"Took some interesting trickery with the signal boosters," Frederick adds, looking like he's enjoying himself more than is reasonable. "Good thing Bill knows a thing or two about bouncing signals underground, or we'd still be at it."

Bill smiles. "I try. The signals are safer underground. The clouds can't get them here."

Carlos holds the cellphone they've been working on out to Cecil. "Go ahead," he says, as Kevin comes back over, obviously concerned for the citizens of the miniature city too. "Just bear in mind the line might be a little awkward."

Cecil takes the phone, but then hesitates, and his sister puts a hand on his arm. "It's OK," Caitlin insists. "The miniature city is well out from the centre of Night Vale. There's every reason to think they'll be all right."

"I know," Cecil answers. "I just…"

"You'll feel better once you talk to Hunter," Caitlin says. "We all will."

"And then you can go save the world again," Janice adds, with a little grin. "Because it's totally your thing."

It kind of is. Cecil takes a deep breath, and dials his brother's number, putting the phone onto speaker so everyone can listen in.

There's a worryingly long pause, then they hear a crackle and the sound of ringing, followed by a click.

"Hello?"

"Hunter? Hunter, it's Cecil."

"Cecil!" Hunter Palmer exclaims. "Powers, you had us all worried. Hold on one second… Earl! Earl! It's Cecil!"

There's hurried footsteps in the background, and then they hear the voice of Earl Harlan. "Cecil? By the Overball, are you and the others all right?"

"We're fine," Cecil answers, the relief in his voice palpable. "Or, as fine as we can be under the circumstances. I'm here with Carlos and Kevin, and Caitlin and Janice and Steve. And quite a lot of other people, actually."

"Cecil, what's going on up there?" Hunter asks. "There's been horrific tremors for two days now, and we couldn't raise anyone on the joint cellphone network. And then… then there's this _humming_ that won't stop…"

"You remember what I told you about all the things that happened in Desert Bluffs last year?" Cecil starts out. "About the Bloodstone? And…"

"…how there was a second Bloodstone under Night Vale…" Hunter says, obviously understanding. "Someone raised it?"

"They did," Cecil answers. "And once it was in the sunlight… it powered up. Hence the tremors. And the humming."

"Is there blood?" Kevin interjects, softly.

"No," Hunter answers. "Should there be?"

"There is up here. Although… you're probably isolated from the worst of it, given where Nebolgorod is in relation to Night Vale as a whole."

"That's something, I guess," Hunter replies. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

"Right now, we just need to know you're OK," Cecil says. "How bad are the tremors?"

"Some minor structural damage, but no collapses yet," Earl tells him. "The Followers and the Acolytes both have people out in the city, working on keeping everything intact. And the Emissaries of You are opening up halls and warehouses as places for people to stay if their own buildings are at risk."

"Sounds like you have things well under control," Caitlin adds, looking as relieved as Cecil does.

"For now, at least," Hunter answers. "What about all of you?"

"We have a plan," Steve chips in. "If it works… we should have that second Bloodstone taken care of very soon."

Carlos can't help wishing he had Steve's confidence.

"It helps to know you're OK," Cecil says. "Just… please, be careful down there. This may get worse before it gets better."

Given their track record, this could pretty much be the team motto, Carlos thinks, although he doesn't say as much out loud.

"Keep us updated," Earl adds. "So we know what's going on."

"We will," Cecil promises. "There's a lot of interference in the cellphone network, though, so it might be a bit intermittent."

"We'll try not to worry," Hunter says, with a wry note to his tone. "And good luck."

"Thanks," Cecil replies. "We'll talk soon."

And he ends the call.

"Better?" Carlos asks, hesitantly.

Cecil smiles. "Yes. Better. I'm still worried, but at least now I know they're OK."

It's at this point that Sheriff Sam comes sauntering over, looking far calmer than they have any right to. "Are we ready to go?" they ask, tone chipper.

"We are now," Kevin answers, obviously trying to sound prepared for anything.

"Excellent," Sam says. "Shall we?"

So they do. There are quite a few goodbyes to be said – in particular, neither Steve nor Cecil is happy about leaving Caitlin and Janice behind, even if they'll be much safer here – but eventually there's nothing to hold them back.

"This is it," Cecil says.

"Good luck out there," Dana tells him, looking like she wishes she was going too. And then she takes Kevin's hand, and meets his eyes, which makes him freeze to the spot.

"Save her?" she adds – asks – in a soft voice.

Kevin puts his hand over Dana's and nods. "I will," he answers, seeming galvanised by the words. "This time, I _will_."

***

Back on the surface, the sun is still shining hot and bright, although the wind is picking up and there are clouds in the distance.

"Looks like more bloodrain on the horizon," Frederick remarks, far too calmly.

"Let's hope not," Steve answers, with a shudder.

They pause by the two vehicles, knowing that this is where they part company.

"We might lose touch for a while, given all the signal-blocking," Naomi says. "But one way or another, we'll get to the Bloodstone and we'll take it out, just like before. So, whatever you have to do to stop the twins and save Vanessa, you do it."

"We will," Kevin answers. "You be careful."

"Aren't we always?" says Darla, with a grin.

Kevin hugs them both tightly, stepping back after a moment with obvious reluctance.

"Try not to die, Steve," Cecil tells his brother-in-law, with awkward concern in his own voice.

"I'll do my best," Steve promises, and hugs him, and Cecil just kind of accepts it, even going so far as to pat Steve on the arm as the man lets go.

"Try to be vaguely sensible," Carlos now adds, looking at Frederick. "And no death rays."

The other scientist grins. "No promises!"

"Shall we?" Sam cuts in, pointedly.

So they do. Naomi, Darla, Steve and Frederick climb into the van, and soon they're setting off back onto the road, hurtling away into the distance.

"Well," Kevin says, tone suddenly very bright, as if he's gone into full repression-mode. "Time for the fun part?"

Nothing about this part is going to be fun.

***

It isn't.

In the grip of the second Bloodstone, Night Vale has become a hell as terrifying as Desert Bluffs once was. The roads are nigh-on deserted, though one or two wrecked cars speak of more alarming recent events, and it's hard not to feel all kinds of horrified by the sheer amount of blood.

It's so familiar. Too familiar. Carlos is not sure what it says about his life – about any of their lives – that he could think this, but it's undeniable all the same. He sits in the back seat of the car, with Kevin next to him, holding the man's hand tight. Right now, Kevin seems unnaturally quiet and calm, and Carlos worries about where in his head he's gone.

Because it isn't a good place. Not to be suddenly so calm in the face of all this.

"You know, Cecil, you're a very responsible driver," Sam remarks, apropos of nothing.

" _Cecil_ ," the man himself corrects, still trying to get Sam to pronounce his name right. "And I have the Sheriff of Night Vale sitting next to me. Of _course_ I'm a responsible driver. Not that I wouldn't be at all times, obviously," he adds, hastily, at the look he's getting from the lawperson at his side.

"Obviously," Sam echoes, dryly.

***

The deeper into Night Vale they go, the worse it gets.

Overhead, the clouds are gathering, and as they get close to City Hall – and to the building opposite that was once the Night Vale branch of Strexcorp HQ – thunder starts to rumble overhead, shortly before the heavens open.

Well, no. Not the heavens. The _hells_.

"Oh, charming," Sam remarks.

There really is nothing you can do about bloodrain. Carlos remembers it from the days of the revolution in Desert Bluffs, and – of course – from when he lived there. Going out in it is only an option if you have an exceptionally strong stomach and access to a power-shower.

Right now, he has neither.

"This is not helping," Cecil says, as the whole world beyond the windshield goes a horrible, horrible shade of red, just after he manages to park the car on the roadside. "This is not helping in the slightest."

"We could just… go out in it," Kevin suggests. "I mean, it's only blood."

"No, Kevin," Cecil replies. "It is a _lot_ of blood."

It is. There's little they can do except sit in the car and stare at it.

"Are you seriously telling me that not _one_ of you has an umbrella?" Sam says.

"Well, we live in a desert, so… no," Cecil manages, as if he's not wholly sure this is the right answer. Even if it's true.

Sam rolls their eyes. "Good thing you brought me, then."

"Why, do _you_ have one?" Kevin asks.

"Of course I do, Kevin," Sam answers, matter-of-factly. "I'm _British_."

And, without further ado, Sam opens the car door, unfurling an impressively large umbrella through it and then stepping out. Precisely _how_ an umbrella of that size compacts down into the initial object that Sam pulled from their belt, Carlos is not sure.

But he has more pressing concerns to deal with. Like the three of them climbing from the car, one by one, to shelter under the umbrella with the sheriff. And each other. And, if the bloodrain was bad from behind glass, it is _infinitely_ worse now.

"Let's get inside," Cecil says, and they walk in an awkward huddle up to the building that they're heading for: the old Strexcorp HQ, now entirely covered in thick, orange canvas.

And a lot of blood.

Sam pulls back the flap at the entryway, revealing a door beyond, sealed with some kind of keypad lock. They tap in a long code, and the light above the panel immediately turns green. Seconds later, there's a clunk, and the door swings inwards, allowing the four of them to hurry inside.

Kevin shuts the door again with a snap. "I do _not_ miss that stuff as much as you might expect," he says, though he still seems far less alarmed by it than Cecil does. And certainly than Carlos feels.

But all of that fades as Sam – umbrella already down, no doubt to avoid some kind of curse – flicks a master switch close by, and the lights in the dark space where they're now standing all come on.

"Oh… my," Cecil manages.

Inside, the old Strexcorp HQ building looks like it shares an interior decorator with whoever did the work on the Hartley mansion, back in Desert Bluffs. A central, sweeping staircase up ahead of them leads to the second floor, with a broad, curved reception desk in front of it and two high barriers with strange, round metal-detecting portals in them.

"Huh," Cecil says, now sounding surprised. "I didn't expect that."

"The Management Board got a little paranoid towards the end," Kevin replies, calmly, and clearly back to heavily repressing everything again. "They were concerned by the fact that key figures within the administration kept turning up dead. Or, no, _not_ turning up dead, given that they never found the bodies. It was believed that one or more members of the Night Vale resistance were taking the people in question out."

"And were they?" Sam asks.

"Oh, no," Kevin answers, easily. "That was me. I had to kill quite a number to keep the resistance's activities secret. Secret-ish. And my own, of course. I couldn't risk anyone finding out about that."

Sam stares at Kevin at this, like they're not quite sure whether to be alarmed, disapproving, or impressed.

Kevin, meanwhile, paces a little further into the wide reception hall, looking around. "Oh, this place sure does bring back memories…" he remarks.

Given that the Management Board spent only a matter of weeks in Night Vale, this statement is somewhat telling. Carlos steps up close to Kevin and takes his hand, and the other man is clearly deep inside his own head at this point because the contact makes him jump.

"You don't have to think about that," Carlos tells him, softly, and Kevin turns to look at him, his own eyes haunted again.

"I can't not," he replies. "I remember… I remember the last time I came here. The day I swapped out Mr Hartley's key, so I could later slip it to you. I… couldn't come back, after that."

Carlos goes cold. He's known since the days of the revolution that Kevin switched the keys, but it's only now – in the light of recent revelations – that he understands what it most likely entailed. Unable and unwilling to give voice to any of it, he settles for gripping Kevin's hand tighter, and the look in the man's eyes as he glances sideways is answer enough.

Cecil steps up to Kevin's other side and puts a gentle hand on his chest. "Stay here with us," he says, softly. "It's OK."

"I know," Kevin answers, tone lightening in the way that only heavy repression could produce right now. "And hey, it worked."

It did. But that doesn't make the facts any less distressing.

Sam, meanwhile, paces up to the central reception desk, tapping the little gold bell with a slight grin. The tinny _ding_ echoes in the otherwise quiet room, fading gradually back into silence.

"Guess we'd better let ourselves in," Sam remarks, dryly; headtilting towards one of the two metal-detecting portals.

They make towards the closer portal, but Kevin suddenly breaks away from his boyfriends and steps carefully in front of the sheriff. "Let me go first," he says, levelly. "There may still be security countermeasures active in this place."

"Might I remind you that I am the _sheriff_ of the Night Vale Secret Police?" Sam points out, in the tone of voice that Carlos knows full-well they reserve for dealing with people from Desert Bluffs.

"I haven't forgotten," Kevin answers, very calmly. "But I used to be a senior member of the Strexcorp non-executive hierarchy. So if this place is going to let _any_ of us in, it will be me."

Sam gives Kevin a slightly narrowed look at this, but then nods. "All right. Do try not to get killed."

"Don't I always?" Kevin replies, and moves over to the weirdly-round metal-detecting portal. It stands in the middle of the high metal barrier running from the central desk to the far wall, mirrored by a similar one on the other side, giving the slightly alarming impression of a pair of giant, hollow eyes staring back at them. But there's nothing whatsoever to suggest that either portal is active. All the running lights are dark, and there's a thin sheen of dust lying over the flat surfaces.

Kevin pauses, taking a deep breath, and then he steps through the portal all at once. And… nothing happens. Everything remains silent and still.

"That bodes well," Sam says.

"It does," Kevin agrees. "Nonetheless… take this part carefully."

Sam nods, and approaches the portal, pausing for a second before following Kevin through in one swift step. But the instant they do, everything whirrs into life; all of the lights flashing to an angry red, and a shrill klaxon starts ringing loudly. Both portals slam closed like a pair of narrowed metal irises, leaving Kevin and Sam on one side of the high barrier wall, and Cecil and Carlos on the other.

Carlos barely has a moment to process the wave of panic that hits him at this, because then a series of hidden doors open up – on both sides of the room, and both sides of the barrier – and a whole swarm of figures come pouring in: a group of men, dressed in black suits with bright orange ties.

Strexcorp enforcers. And, what's worse, all of them look completely identical.

"What in _blazes_?" Sam exclaims.

"Robots," Kevin replies, drawing his knife and instinctively moving to stand back-to-back with the sheriff. "I'd heard that Strex was working on enhancing the workforce with more of them, but I didn't realise they'd gone this far. I guess Mr Hartley was keeping _that_ part a surprise."

Despite it all, he laughs. "I wonder if Daniel knew…"

"This is not good!" Cecil says, currently trying to stand in front of Carlos. And it really is deeply adorable, if a little tricky – due to the fact that the robot-enforcers already have them mostly surrounded.

"Seconded!" Carlos agrees. "Kevin, what do we _do_?"

"Same thing we always do," Kevin replies, tone suddenly so calm and sure. "Although, Cecil… you might have to show off that trick of yours…"

"I haven't tried it in _weeks_!" Cecil protests, sounding more and more alarmed. "And never in a life or death situation!"

All around them – either side of the central barrier – the circle of identical robot-enforcers all draw knives. In unison.

"…Oh, that's bad," Sam murmurs, brandishing their umbrella like a sword.

"Cecil, you can do it," Kevin insists. "I know you can. And you have to protect Carlos."

Cecil takes a deep breath. "All right. All right. Carlos… stay close to me."

The circle of robot-enforcers starts to advance.

"Just what I need," Kevin says, sounding more like himself than he has all day. "A _warm-up_."

There's a pause, and then he adds – in a shout – " _Now_!"

Things happen fast. As Kevin and Sam both immediately launch themselves at the nearest robot-enforcers, Cecil throws his hands into the air. Vibrant purple light blazes out as he does, forming itself into a shimmering, translucent dome, with Cecil – and Carlos – at the centre. And though Carlos has watched Cecil practicing this kind of thing with Kevin many times since what happened in Nebolgorod last autumn, it still takes his breath away.

The whole thing is scientifically impossible. _Impossible_. And yet, there it is.

The robot-enforcers closing in on them immediately stop, shrieking in cacophonous dischord, before hurtling inwards and starting to slam their hands against the seemingly solid dome of light, unable to advance any further and thoroughly unhappy about it.

"Not good, not good, not good!" Carlos finds himself exclaiming.

"I really hope this works…" he then hears Cecil murmur, and it's only now that Carlos realises the plan isn't over.

And it _really_ isn't. Hands still held up, Cecil shouts something in Unmodified Sumerian, and – beyond the dome of purple light – a creature pops into existence in what can only be described as a fizz and a puff of smoke.

It's one of those little demonic imp-things: about two feet tall, thin and pointed, with narrowed red eyes and more teeth than seems necessary.

"…I think you might need something slightly bigger!" Carlos exclaims, which he realises isn't exactly helpful, but it's hard to think sensibly when they're surrounded by robot-enforcers hammering on the protective dome like a swarm of knife-wielding, business-suited zombies.

"I don't like the bigger ones!" Cecil replies, and repeats the incantation in Unmodified Sumerian, albeit louder and more forcefully, as if trying to persuade _something_ to take him seriously.

For a second, Carlos worries it hasn't worked, and then the air beyond the dome fills with that fizzing smoke, but on a rather larger scale.

And then… then there are imps. Lots. Lots of demon-imps. The creatures fizz into existence, and then immediately turn their angry eyes on the robot-enforcers. And _then_ they attack, en masse, like a swarm; groups of them launching themselves at every business-suited target.

"…Merciful _Einstein_ ," Carlos manages.

It's an alarming thing to witness. Less so when Carlos considers that the alternative could very well be a fate worse than death, but nevertheless. The imps seem remarkably well-organised, and once they get into their stride they're frighteningly effective at taking down the robot-enforcers.

On the far side of the barrier, Kevin and Sam are taking a more traditional approach to the problem. Despite everything that's happened, Kevin still fights with a quick, efficient flair, downing attacker after attacker without the slightest hesitation. And Sam seems to be holding their own too, although Carlos is now confident he'll never look at an umbrella the same way again.

As the number of targets lessens, and they have a little more breathing room, Sam opts to switch to their blowdart – the traditional service weapon of any secret policeperson – and it turns out they're a damn good shot. It _also_ turns out that whatever those darts are dipped in works on robot-enforcers too, because they go down just as fast as a regular human would.

Carlos still worries at the direction his life has taken that would make sentences like these seem so normal. But they do.

The last target falls, and then Sam turns with a flourish, aiming a final dart at the source of the still-ringing alarm, up on the ceiling. It strikes home with perfect accuracy, taking the alarm out and bringing merciful quiet in its place.

Their own targets dealt with, the swarm of demon-imps now all turn back towards Cecil and Carlos. And, much as they've been helping, it's still somewhat worrying to have all those red eyes and pointed teeth aimed in their direction again.

But all the imps do is give a little bow and start to fizz back out of existence – or, out of this plane, at least – until the last one is gone. Only then does Cecil lower his hands, letting the dome of purple light fade out all at once.

"…That was bracing," Sam remarks, holstering their blowdart again. "Is this what the revolution was like?"

"Actually, that was new," Cecil manages, tone still full of alarm. "Well… mostly new."

"Cecil, that was _amazing_ ," Kevin says, finally relaxing from his still-combat-ready pose but not yet slipping his knife away. "Seriously."

"I'm… just glad it worked," Cecil replies, seeming to calm a little when Carlos moves to put an arm around him. "There had better not be any more of those… robot-things."

"Seconded," Carlos agrees.

Given that the metal-detecting portals are still firmly closed, Cecil and Carlos opt for clambering over the central desk in order to reach the other side of the barrier. It isn't exactly graceful, but it does allow them to get to where Kevin and Sam are, and it doesn't cause anything else to attack them.

"You know, you're remarkably handy in a fight," Kevin says to Sam.

The sheriff gives an easy shrug. "My predecessor wasn't. But I enjoy shaking things up. Besides, my enemies are infinitely safer if they're unconscious."

As one, they turn and look up the stairs leading to the second floor.

"We should maybe be more careful when we head up there," Cecil says.

"We _were_ being careful," Kevin points out.

"I know. But… we should be _more_ careful."

It's a sentiment that's hard to argue with.

And so, carefully, they start to pace up the stairs. Kevin leads the way – knife still drawn – pausing once they reach the top.

"If the orb is here, it's most likely in Mr Hartley's old office," he says, voice suddenly heavy again. "Which is…" he points, "…that one."

They approach the door, which is high and ominous, clearly – like everything else here – designed to impress, and push it cautiously open. Beyond is a wide, elegant office, with a broad window looking out over the city beyond, and a large, central desk.

Kevin just sort of freezes, and Cecil puts an arm around him again. Sam, meanwhile – either oblivious to the reaction, or perhaps wanting to offer a clear _dis_ traction – paces further into the room, turning to look at the large family portrait hanging above the fireplace. Much like the one back at the manor house, it depicts the Hartley family – Derek, Susan, Lauren and Naomi – standing in a garden, with a bright, vibrant sun shining down on them.

Carlos shivers and – not for the first time – finds himself feeling more than a little sorry for Naomi.

"If _I_ had a secret vault, that's where I'd hide it," Sam remarks.

None of the others mention that it's precisely where they found the hidden vault in the office at the manor, and merely allow Sam to step up and swing the hinged portrait back, revealing the locked safe behind.

"See?" Sam says, with a hint of smugness. "Villains are very predictable. Although… we do need the combination…"

"Zero-three, two-one, one-nine, three-one," Kevin answers, immediately, and then gives a shrug when Sam looks at him in surprise. "His wife's birthday," he adds, by way of explanation.

Sam nods. "Also predictable," they remark, and tap in the code.

It works, of course, and the lock disengages with a clunk, allowing the sheriff to open the door so that they can all see what's inside.

And, as they do, Carlos isn't sure whether to be pleased or terrified.

In the vault, resting on a cushion made of rather garish orange velvet, is a shimmering orb – slightly too large to sit comfortably in the average human hand – which appears to be made of smooth glass. Within its confines, light and smoke swirl in constant interplay, glittering with a bright, white glow.

"… _Oh_ ," Kevin breathes. "That's it. We found it."

He slips his knife away at last, stepping up and reaching into the vault to pick up the orb. The action worries Carlos for a moment, but he relaxes – at least a little – when nothing untoward happens.

"It's… strangely beautiful," Cecil remarks, moving closer.

"And this is what these twins want from you?" Sam says, sounding somewhat surprised.

"Yes," Kevin answers. "And now we have it… we have to find out where they are. We have to find them, and…"

"Kevin," Cecil says, softly, putting a hand on his double's arm. "I think we know where they're going to be."

They do. But none of them wants to think it. Kevin obviously least of all.

"…The second Bloodstone," he replies, equally softly. "They must know we're back in town. They'll be waiting for us there. Waiting for us to bring them this… so they can use it for whatever they've got planned. And I… we…"

Fresh emotion overwhelms the man, and Kevin steps away from them all, orb still held close. He paces back into the centre of the room, not turning, staring at the Strexcorp banner on the far wall.

"I have to stop them," he says. "Once we make the swap, once they give us Vanessa… I have to stop them."

Carlos feels his stomach lurch. On some level, he's known a declaration like this had to be coming, but that doesn't make it hurt any less.

"We know," Cecil replies, levelly. "We've known all along. Once Vanessa is safe… we have to stop the twins doing whatever they've got planned. We can't let them get away."

Kevin turns at that, the orb in his hands glittering and swirling faster as he does, as if whatever is inside it actually obeys the laws of fluid dynamics. "You realise what you're saying?" he asks, softly, his own expression suddenly so very complicated.

"Of course I do," Cecil answers. "I may not have had your experience or your training… but I know the only way out of this is to stop the twins carrying out their plan. Or any other plan. And if we could do it without violence, I would. But if we can't…"

He trails off, glancing over at Carlos, clearly concerned about how he's reacting to all this. And Carlos himself still isn't _sure_ how to react to this. Because, on the one hand, all of this violence is awful. And, on the other hand… it may be the only way to save their town from unimaginable hell.

And it isn't as though Kevin hasn't killed people before. It's just strange to think of Cecil being involved in it too.

"I can take them on," Kevin says. "In a simple hand-to-hand battle… I could likely defeat them. They're good, and there's two of them, but…" He looks down, as if suddenly not wanting to seem smug. "…I'd win. I might get hurt, but I'd win."

"Then why not do that?" Sam asks. The sheriff, for their part, seems wholly unconcerned by the discussion of potential violence, and more than a little captivated by the swirling orb in Kevin's hands.

"Because they're half-demon," Kevin replies. "And they have enough demon blood to make killing them on this plane impossible, at least without an extra-planar weapon. Which I still do not have. Of course, there's always Azzie…"

"Azzie?" Sam interjects.

"Azatothoth," Kevin clarifies. "My demon. The trouble is, the twins know we're coming. They'll likely have the place warded against summonings. It means _they_ can't call on anything either, but no doubt that's a small price to pay to keep out the guy who killed their boss."

Sam looks more perplexed. "Wait, what?"

"Mr Hartley," Kevin starts out. "My demon – Azzie – is the one who killed him. Stroke of luck, too, because Mr Hartley was a demon bound in human form, so regular weapons would never have worked on him. And as I didn't even _know_ that at the time…"

He trails off. They really _did_ get lucky, that day.

"So if you can't rely on this… _Azzie_ of yours, what exactly _is_ your plan?" Sam pushes.

"I have another weapon," Kevin answers, biting his lip a little, looking reticent. "It just… isn't a _traditional_ one."

Sam headtilts. "What do you mean?"

"He means me," Cecil says, softly. "The… powers I have. The things I can do. I… might be able to take the twins out."

"But I can't ask you to do that, Cecil," Kevin goes on. "I can't. I've kept the blood off your hands. I can't…"

"Kevin," his double interjects, firm but gentle. "You're not asking me to do it. You're not making me. I'm choosing to. I'm choosing to fight for my hometown. For _Night Vale_. And for Desert Bluffs too." He smiles a little, despite it all. "Just like you did."

Kevin stares at him, dark eyes wide with emotion. "But… if something goes wrong…"

"Would the possibility make you back out?" Cecil asks him.

"Never," Kevin replies.

"Then you have your answer. I can do this. _We_ can do this."

"What about me?" Carlos asks, quietly, and both doubles look at him at once.

"We need you to get Vanessa out," Kevin says. "Once we make the exchange. You and Sam have to get Vanessa to safety. The Belmonte twins may have backup with them, and we can't risk any of them getting hold of her again."

"I won't leave you," Carlos protests, even though he knows there's no way he can help in a fight against half-demons. Not without significant scientific preparation.

Maybe he should have taken Frederick up on the death ray offer.

"We're not asking you to," Cecil insists, going to take Carlos' hands, pulling him in close. "We're just asking you to get Vanessa out of immediate danger. And… yourself, too. You know how much we love you."

Carlos nods, a little numbly, even though he knows it's the best course of action.

"We should get moving," Sam says, with a surprising amount of tact. "It looks like the bloodrain is slackening, and the sooner we do this, the better."

The other three look at each other and then nod, a silent moment of agreement.

"Yes," Kevin replies, resolute. "Let's go."

And as they're heading out of the office – taking the planar orb with them – Sam makes a thoughtful sound. "You can tell these Belmonte twins aren't from Night Vale," they remark.

"Oh?" Cecil says.

"Mmmm," the sheriff replies, almost idly. "I mean, 'Belmonte'. It's not exactly in keeping with our town's beliefs."

"It isn't?"

"Well, no. 'Belmonte'. It means 'beautiful mountain'. And everyone knows those don't exist."

_Behold the beautiful mountain_.

Kevin doesn't say anything. Cecil doesn't say anything. Carlos certainly doesn't say anything.

But they all start to walk faster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *ominous face is ominous*
> 
> Coming Up Next In Chiralityverse: A blood-streaked plaza. A giant glowing crystal. A battle for a city's heart. But, this time, nothing is as it seems...


	7. Devoto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Salutations, dear readers! I return with another chapter for you, and it...
> 
> ...you know what? You should probably read it first. It's somewhat pivotal.
> 
> I'll see you at the end.

**Devoto**

_Religiously_

***

By the time they get out of the building – stepping carefully over the fallen robot-enforcers as they go – the bloodrain has stopped. It's a small mercy, but it's something. The four of them clamber back into the car, and then they all pause.

"We're really doing this," Cecil says, as if he's still a little in shock at the thought.

"We're really doing this," Kevin echoes, looking down at the planar orb in his hands. "I just wish we had more time to look into what _this_ thing can do. I'm sure Carlos could work it out."

"Somehow I don't think that orb obeys scientific law," Carlos states, staring over at it suspiciously. "If it can open doors between dimensions, it shouldn't exist."

And yet, there it is.

"Listen, I've been thinking," Sam says. "You two are planning to go up against the Belmonte twins, and given everything you've told me, that might be for the best. They don't strike me as the type who would be taken down by a few blowdarts."

"They aren't," Kevin agrees. "So what are you suggesting?"

"Let me call for backup," Sam answers. "If your attack doesn't succeed, my people can move in as a second wave."

"The cellphone network is jammed," Carlos points out. "How will you call them?"

The sheriff reaches to clap him on the shoulder at this, in likely the same way as they do shortly before arresting someone. "We have other means of communication," they say, without elaborating, and Carlos opts to merely nod and not question the matter further.

"Works for me," Kevin agrees, very easily, and now Carlos can't help feeling that the man wants as small an audience as possible for what's about to transpire. Which… makes sense.

Cecil puts his hands on the steering wheel. "We should get going," he says, tone heavy.

They should. And they do. But none of them is looking forward to what comes next.

And, as Carlos stares out at the blood-soaked city beyond the glass, the same thought keeps circulating in his mind.

 _Happy June 15th_.

***

The closer they get to the centre of town, to the square beyond the Dog Park, the louder and more painful the song of the Bloodstone becomes.

Cecil parks the car about a block away, so they can approach on foot. Mercifully, the bloodrain is still holding off, though this does mean the sky is rapidly clearing to bright, painfully hot sunlight. It glitters on the blood lining the ground, the walls, the buildings.

Everything.

"I'll maintain position close by," Sam tells them, as they all climb out of the car. "Near enough to watch what's going on. If things turn sour, I'll have my people move in."

Carlos is starting to think this might have been the plan all along, but is smart enough not to question it. And terrified enough to be quickly distracted by other things.

"Don't come into that square unless you think there's no other choice," Kevin insists.

Sam gives him a dry look, but nods. "I'm perfectly good at revolutions, thank you very much," they reply, and then an odd expression crosses their face. "Cecil, Kevin, Carlos… good luck."

Carlos can't help thinking that they're going to need it.

The sheriff heads off when they get close to the square, leaving the three of them to go on alone. And, as they reach the edge of the final building before the square itself – the last place where they're still in cover – Kevin pauses, staring down at the planar orb he's still carrying.

"If this goes badly…" he starts out, but Cecil immediately puts both hands on his shoulders.

"Don't think about that," Cecil insists. "We can do this. We've made it through far worse."

"But… this song, in my head…" Kevin closes his eyes for a moment. "It _hurts_. And it _doesn't_. It feels like…"

"I know what it feels like," Cecil tells him. "I know. But it's OK. You're with us. _It's OK_."

Kevin takes a deep breath, then meets Cecil's eyes, nodding. "All right," he replies. "I… just need you both to know how much I love you."

"We know," Carlos says, stepping in closer, reaching for both of them. "We love you too. And you do _not_ have to do any of this alone."

Despite it all, Kevin manages a smile, and then he looks down at the orb in his hands again. "Carlos… would you take this? I think I need to be armed for this part."

"I think I'd feel better if you were," Carlos admits, and he takes the planar orb from Kevin. It sits in his hands, seeming surprisingly inert and normal, save for the bright white glow.

The three of them look at each other, and then – as one – they look out towards the square, towards the vibrant red light spilling towards them.

This is it. _This is it_.

And they step out into the glow of the Bloodstone.

It is not, of course, the same Bloodstone as the one that stood for decades at the heart of Desert Bluffs. The shape is different, the warp of the facets different. But the vibrant red light is the same, as is the roaring, agonising song it projects into the minds of all non-demons close enough to hear.

The square around it is drenched in blood, like the rest of Night Vale, but the way it shimmers in the Bloodstone's glow makes it seem so very much worse. The presence of the Dog Park – its obsidian walls glittering unnatural red at the top of the square – does not help.

What's more, a semi-circle of tall, stone monoliths has been formed around the Bloodstone itself, and each monolith is daubed with a different message, obviously written in blood.

The outermost stones, to left and right, read: ' _The oranges are key_ ', and ' _The sun will rise again_ '. The inner stones read: ' _Behold the beautiful mountain_ ', and ' _From without, we are within_ '. And the central stone, the highest of the five, reads: ' _Think deeply about meadows_ '.

Carlos goes cold. Somehow… the monoliths are more worrying than the Bloodstone itself. And, right now, that's saying something.

But the three of them only have a moment to dwell on the scene as a whole before their attention is drawn to the two women in the square. They stand at its centre, in front of the Bloodstone; saved, of course, from its torturous song by the demon-blood in their veins. The women in question are nigh-on identical: Latina, with dark hair that falls past their shoulders. They have the same unnatural blue eyes that all of the old Strexcorp Management Board – and their children – appear to possess; eyes that mark them out as being not from around here.

They're dressed in identical black business suits, with vibrant orange blouses, and matching Strexcorp pin badges on their lapels. But, Carlos notices, one wears theirs on the left lapel, the other on the right.

A concession to their chirality, perhaps.

The three men approach in a line: Carlos in the centre, planar orb held close, with Kevin on his left and Cecil on his right. He hears the telling _shiiiiik_ as Kevin draws his knife, and, from the sudden flicker of _purple_ light at Cecil's hand, he realises both men are showing off a little.

Good. They can't afford to display a flicker of weakness. Or fear. Or any other natural response to being put in a situation like this _again_.

"Well, well," says the twin with the left lapel badge. "Kevin. We weren't sure if you were going to show up. But you did… and you brought _both_ boyfriends. How deeply charming."

"You knew I'd come," Kevin replies. His voice is level and careful now, betraying not a flicker of fear, and Carlos knows it must be taking a great deal of effort to suppress it all. "You didn't doubt it, not for an instant… and here I am. It's been a long time, Zara," he adds, nodding to the twin who just spoke. And then, to the other, "Tamsen."

"A very long time," Tamsen Belmonte concurs. Her posture – like her sister's – is relaxed, controlled, but neither woman can avoid staring at the planar orb for slightly longer than they should, and the _hunger_ in their eyes as they do leaves Carlos feeling cold as ice all over again.

"And we meet _you_ at last," Zara Belmonte adds, managing to drag her attention from the orb to look right at Cecil. "Kevin's double. The radio host who managed to stay as _just_ a radio host, rather than a practiced killer. I must say, the power radiating off you is impressive. We were clearly misinformed about your abilities."

"Surprise," Cecil says, managing to pull off a tone that is somehow deadpan with a flourish. "I didn't know either, not for a long time."

That purple glow intensifies, just a little. "Now I do."

"Ooooh, I like the ones with _fire_ ," Tamsen remarks, pacing a few steps closer. "It makes this part so much more interesting. And, believe me, Cecil Palmer… this part is going to be _very_ interesting."

"This part needs to be nothing of the sort," Kevin interjects, clearly not liking the way Tamsen is looking at Cecil. "You want the planar orb. We want Vanessa. You bring her out, we switch, and our business is concluded."

Zara laughs, bright and melodious. "Oh, Kevin, you may have betrayed Strexcorp with all your heart and soul, but you certainly haven't lost your taste for _efficiency_. But why rush the matter? This moment is one we've waited more than a _year_ to get to… and we want to savour it."

"In many ways," Tamsen adds, "it's fitting that it all comes to a head here. Right here. This, after all, is the site of the Battle of Night Vale. The place where you murdered our leader. Where you killed Derek Hartley. Where else would we choose to exact revenge on his behalf? Where else could be more _right_ than this? You took Desert Bluffs from us… so we, in turn, have taken Night Vale from you. And here, where our leader fell… we will avenge his death."

"I killed him, yes," Kevin says, softly. "Not directly… he died by my demon's hand. But I'm the one who willed it. And I do not feel a _shred_ of guilt over what happened. That monster tortured my entire hometown for decades. The things he did, the things he caused… I would kill him a thousand times if I could, and not even for myself." A pause. A pause followed by words in a voice that does not waver. "Not even for what he did to me."

The smiles drop from Zara and Tamsen's faces all at once. "We know," Zara replies, coldness slipping into her tone. "We know you feel no remorse. We know you betrayed the man who guarded and nurtured your supposedly-beloved hometown for _decades_."

Kevin laughs, his tone as bitter as Carlos has ever heard it. "Guarded and _nurtured_?" he repeats, incredulous. "Can you even _hear_ yourselves, right now? Mr Hartley did not ' _guard and nurture_ ' Desert Bluffs. He oppressed it. Tortured it. Murdered its citizens. _Ripped out its heart_. And even a whole year after we took it back, the wounds in my _definitely_ -beloved hometown still run right to the core."

"Eloquent as ever," Tamsen says, her tone idle, the look in her eyes anything but. "It doesn't change anything. You betrayed Strexcorp. The _true_ Strexcorp. Not the pathetic shadow that Naomi Hartley lords herself over now. And you betrayed Derek Hartley, even knowing that he would have given you _anything_ , if only you were truly loyal."

"Anything?" Kevin now echoes. "That _creature_ controlled my mind, my _life_ , for two decades. And don't talk about what happened at the Battle of Night Vale as if it was some kind of _surprise_. I'd turned on him _six times_ before that day. The fact he didn't see the seventh time coming is just further proof that he was losing his touch!"

"How dare you?" Tamsen hisses, drawing her own knife from where it's holstered – as is standard in Desert Bluffs – at the base of her back. "You were Derek's favourite. He wouldn't have given you so many second chances if you weren't. And you were like family to all of us. Why else would Susan have entrusted her husband to you, after her death?"

"…Wait, what?" Carlos interjects, before he can stop himself.

Tamsen laughs, the same melodious laugh as her twin's. "Oh, did he not tell you that part yet? We assumed you knew it all, given that nothing we've said so far seems to have surprised you. But it's true. When Susan Hartley was dying – may the Smiling God shine forever on her – she called us all to her bedside. Told us all different things. She told _us_ rather more than most, given that we were long being prepared for _this_ moment. She certainly told us what she'd told Kevin. That she wanted him to be there for Derek when she no longer could be."

"Why would she even say that?" Cecil cuts in, no doubt trying to cover for the fact that Kevin now looks like he's about to lose all lingering restraint. "Didn't she know that Kevin had repeatedly turned on Strexcorp?"

"Of course she did," Zara answers. "She _also_ knew that his attempts had been getting less… elaborate. Less heartfelt. The first few… oh, he _really_ went for it. Our mother told us the stories. But the later attempts… they just didn't have the same _spark_ of defiance. Dear Kevin was finally coming around to our way of thinking."

"So… what changed?" Carlos asks, trying to keep his voice level. Scared he knows the answer.

Both twins glare at him. " _You did_ ," they hiss, in frightening unison.

"You did," Zara echoes, on her own this time. "You came along and changed _him_. But Susan didn't see that coming. Her foresight revealed much to her, but you… you were the variable she missed. The one thing she didn't factor in."

" _Enough of this_ ," Kevin cuts in, a little hotly. "It's irrelevant. Mr Hartley is dead. The entire Management Board is dead. Strexcorp-that-was is _over_. And whatever you think this little revolution of yours will accomplish… it won't. This Bloodstone will be destroyed, just as the one in Desert Bluffs was destroyed. And you… you will either surrender, or you will die."

"Are you the one who killed our mother?" Tamsen now asks, seeming unperturbed by the slight non-sequitur. "Reports from what happened in the HQ tower on the day of the Battle of Desert Bluffs are sketchy at best, but we know she died there. Was it you? Or was it precious Naomi?"

"It was me," Kevin answers. "It wasn't easy to tell, given that she and Ms Wallace and Mr Tachibana were all hooded… no doubt holding open that portal for so long was damaging to their human bodies. But I knew, when I struck the final blow… I knew it was her."

He gives an odd little shrug. "Pity for her and the others that they didn't have this," he adds, nodding to the planar orb still held in Carlos' hands, like a shimmering Sword of Damocles above the whole conversation.

"Hardly," Zara throws back. "She and the others needed that portal to let the Smiling God _in_. We need this orb for… a different reason."

Given that they still don't know precisely what that reason _is_ , Carlos can't help a flare of renewed worry at these words.

"Then perhaps we should end this pointless debate and do what we came here to do," Kevin says, flatly. "Give us Vanessa, and we give you the planar orb."

The twins look at each other, matching smiles on their faces. "All right, then," Tamsen replies.

And then, raising her voice to a shout, she adds, "You can come out now!"

Two figures emerge from where they've been hidden from view behind the Bloodstone: a man, holding a woman in front of him, blade over her throat. The woman in question looks absolutely identical to Dana Cardinal, and it would be a deeply unsettling sight all on its own.

But what is far more worrying is the man holding the knife; the man smiling over at them now, over the top of his prisoner's head.

It's Andrew Fletcher.

" _You_ ," Kevin hisses. "You lied to us."

Andrew laughs. "I lied to you," he answers, easily. "And you fell for it. And it felt _so_ very good, Kevin. Fitting, too. After all… you're one of the best liars I've ever known. I wondered if you'd see right through me, but you didn't. You were so desperate to believe in your own so-called 'redemption' that you projected it onto me as well. Luckily, I wasn't so easily swayed. I've always known where my loyalty belongs. Where it still belongs."

Cecil looks as unimpressed as his double. "So that whole part about you being held prisoner for a year…"

"Cute, wasn't it?" Andrew replies. "Selling you a little sob story? The Belmonte twins didn't abduct me after the Battle of Night Vale. _I'm_ the one who went to _them_ , to tell them what had happened. That Mr Hartley and Mr Outteridge were dead. That Kevin had betrayed Strexcorp for the last time."

"Vanessa," Kevin cuts in. "Vanessa, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," the young woman insists, with exactly the same brave edge that her double would use. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"I thought you were dead," Kevin tells her. "If I'd known you were alive… I would have come after you _months_ ago. I'm so sorry, Vanessa. I am so _sorry_."

"Don't be," Vanessa replies, managing a smile despite the blade at her throat. "You're here now. That's what matters."

"Touching reunion," Zara cuts in, coldly, as she draws her own knife at last. "You want your favourite little intern back? Give us the orb."

"That is what I have been _trying_ to do," Kevin points out. "You're the ones who insisted on the trip down memory lane."

Kevin turns to Carlos – obviously about to take the orb from him – but something in the scientist makes him shake his head. "Let me do it," he hears himself saying, even though he knows it's a little insane. Somehow… somehow it seems safer to keep Kevin armed and alert.

And, before either double can argue, he takes a step forward. "Andrew, walk closer," Carlos says, hearing the words at a remove, as if instinct is in control now. "And take the blade away from Vanessa's throat."

Andrew doesn't look impressed at being told what to do, but he nods and relents, lowering the knife but keeping hold of Vanessa. They both walk closer, and Carlos does the same, so that they meet in the gap between the four poised combatants.

The song of the Bloodstone is roaring in Carlos' head, but somehow he manages to push it back, to suppress it enough to concentrate on the moment. And then… then he and Andrew close in on each other, and Carlos holds out the orb, reaching for Vanessa with his other hand.

He has to get her out of the way. No matter what. He has to get her out of the way, and then – ideally – get _himself_ out of the way as well. His one advantage is that he knows full-well that Andrew will try to grab hold of _him_ instead, which means he can be ready for it. Ready to stop him doing anything of the sort.

"Vanessa," Carlos says, taking a deep breath. " _Run_."

And the scientist moves fast. He seizes hold of Vanessa's arm and pulls her away from Andrew, at precisely the same moment as he shoves the planar orb into the other man's hand. Given that Andrew only has one hand free – the other still holding his knife – the moment of unbalance as he tries to keep hold of the orb is just long enough for Carlos to get out of range as well.

"Cecil, now!" Kevin shouts, seizing their one chance.

And all four combatants launch at each other. It's an odd battle to witness – even for a second – because Kevin is taking on both twins at once, whilst Cecil keeps projecting smaller versions of those strange shields of purple light, using them to protect Kevin as much as he can.

It would be somewhat stunning if Carlos wasn't terrified for both his boyfriends. And himself, given that Andrew now tries to close in on him, knife bared, planar orb tucked a little awkwardly under one arm.

"Run!" Carlos says to Vanessa. "Get away from here. Find Naomi Hartley. Tell her everything."

"I can't leave you," Vanessa insists. "I won't. I…"

" _Please_ ," Carlos implores. "Or all of this will have been for nothing!"

"All right," Vanessa says, though she doesn't sound happy about it. "All right."

And she turns to run, instantly drawing Andrew's attention, and that means Carlos has no choice but to act. "Oh no you don't!" he declares, and leaps at the former PA, barrelling them both to the ground and sending the planar orb rolling across the tiled square.

It's enough to give Vanessa time to run, but it isn't enough to allow Carlos to get away from Andrew in time and – before he knows it – the man has yanked him to his feet, blade pressed under his jaw.

"You're lucky we want you alive," Andrew hisses in his ear.

The threat alone would be enough to make Carlos go cold, but what really unsettles him is the realisation that something else is going on here. Something that none of them have accounted for.

Something they've missed.

"Carlos!" Cecil shouts, seeing that he's in trouble, and a ball of purple light materialises out of nowhere, streaking across the square and sending both Carlos and Andrew reeling to the ground all over again.

Carlos immediately struggles out of the other man's reach, trying to open up space between them, whilst Kevin goes for Zara and Tamsen in a burst of renewed focus. And even with Cecil distracted by trying to protect Carlos, Kevin is still holding his own against the two twins, moving with a mixture of grace and fury that's just breathlessly beautiful.

"You forgot to ask us a crucial question, on our little 'trip down memory lane'," Zara points out, all of a sudden.

"Oh?" Kevin replies.

"Yes," Tamsen concurs. "We said that Susan Hartley told us more than most when she called us to her deathbed. You never asked what else there was."

"I'm sure you're going to tell me regardless," Kevin says, obviously trying for an offhand tone, even as the implication clearly has him rattled.

"She didn't know you'd ultimately betray her husband," Zara goes on, in between dodging swipes of Kevin's blade. "But she knew someone might. And she told us… if Derek died, we had to do something for her. We had to find the planar orb she made for him, and the person who killed him, and bring them together."

Carlos feels the whole world stop, as the true weight of the situation suddenly closes in. As he realises that they've been played.

"The raising of the second Bloodstone was just an added bonus," Tamsen says. "It seemed fitting. Fitting to reward Derek Hartley's murderer with the thing he fears the most. And because all of Night Vale will pay for defying Strexcorp. But the most important moment is this one. Right here. Right now."

Kevin immediately backs off, seizing Cecil's arm and pulling him away too, trying to open up more space between them and the Belmonte twins. Carlos moves closer as well, wanting to make sure Andrew can't get hold of him again, and…

…oh. _Oh_.

Andrew Fletcher has re-sheathed his knife, and he's holding the planar orb in both hands, smiling like a man who just won the whole world.

"Happy travels," he says, and throws the planar orb at the ground in front of them, as hard as he can.

" _Run_!" Kevin yells, as the truth dawns, and the terror in his voice cuts Carlos to the core.

But it's too late. There's a rough, harsh sound like a window breaking as the orb shatters against the ground, followed by a burst of vibrant white light. Carlos has only a second to process it before he feels an invisible force seize every atom in his body at the same instant.

Zara and Tamsen both turn and grab hold of the Bloodstone. It's enough to anchor them against the pull of the sudden rip in reality, and Andrew seems to be far enough away – and getting further, given how fast he's running – to avoid it.

Kevin, Cecil and Carlos, however, have nothing to hold onto. And nowhere to run. There's a second in which all of reality seems to slow to nothing as the terrible truth sets in, and then Carlos feels that invisible force yank all three of them forwards into blinding white light.

And then blackness.

***

Carlos awakens with a jump, his mind instantly processing that he doesn't know where he is.

Or, worse: that, on some level, he _does_.

He's lying face-down on slightly rough, rocky ground. The air around him is warm and heavy, with a distinct coppery tang, though it's clearly breathable. Lifting his head, he can see both Cecil and Kevin lying close by, and it's the only relief he feels in the face of this whole situation, because the more he looks around, the more what he sees fills him with a horror beyond words.

They're lying under open sky, but it's no sky Carlos has ever seen: not on Earth, and not in pictures from any rover or probe ever sent to any other planet. The sky now overhead is turbulent with churning cloud, hued in dark, dusty red, lit with flashes of lightning.

Beneath that sky is a rocky landscape devoid of any kind of plantlife: dry and hostile and dead, oppressive in its unnaturalness.

But all of this pales beyond the structure surrounding them: a half-ruined construction that is part stone circle and part amphitheatre, huge and wide, with a raised, craggy dais in the very centre. It's surrounded by five monoliths in a crescent-shape, eerily reminiscent of the ones currently standing behind the Bloodstone back in Night Vale.

Because _this_ is not Night Vale. Or anything close.

At Carlos' side, Kevin jumps awake. He lifts his head, blinking around himself for a few seconds as his mind catches up with what's just happened, and then soul-crushing terror crosses his face.

"Cecil, Cecil, wake up!" he implores, desperately.

Cecil comes to with a jolt, pushing up from the ground and also staring about as he processes what's going on. "Where are we?" he manages, his own voice heavy with alarm. "What happened..? I… are you both all right?"

"Physically, at least," Carlos says, as they scramble to their feet, all standing extremely close together. "Where are we?"

They all know where they are. But Carlos knows his mind won't accept it until one of the others says it out loud.

"The First Infernal Plane," Kevin answers. "We're on the First Infernal Plane."

"How do we get back?" Cecil asks, a hint of desperation in his tone. "Is there… I don't know, some ritual or invocation we can..?"

But before he finishes his sentence, the sound of thunderous footsteps cuts the air, and dozens of figures come into view from behind that central, craggy dais.

Figures. _Demons_. And every one of them armed with a bright, silver knife in a very familiar style.

Kevin moves in front of Cecil and Carlos at once, arms spread wide, his own knife in hand.

"I am Kevin, of Desert Bluffs," he calls out, as firmly and fiercely as he can. "I am a practiced summoner, bearer of a soul-bind, and familiar with the formalities of the Highborn Plane. I invoke the Rite of Dzy-tha-Kyl, and demand to speak to–"

"Oh, Kevin," a smooth voice interrupts. "You always were so very _brave_."

And a figure moves into view at the top of the dais, walking slowly down the steps towards them.

It – _he_ – is a demon; humanoid-shaped, with vivid, slightly mottled red skin that clashes a little with the deep orange robe he's wearing. He has a pair of sleek, bat-like wings spread behind him – how that works with the robe is hard to say from this angle – and two short, pointed horns visible amidst the dark hair on his head, which is itself crowned with a slender golden coronet.

But his eyes… his eyes are bright, ethereal blue. _Familiar_ ethereal blue. Familiar, like his smile, which is turned in their direction now, as the demon paces closer.

And all of reality just _stops_.

"I've waited so very long for this moment," says Derek Hartley. "And it was worth every _second_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...so. I. Ah.
> 
> *clears throat nervously*
> 
> I've been sitting on that reveal for over two years. I have been building towards it, planning for it, _hiding it_ , all that time. And I am still _shaking_ from having written it.
> 
> And, almost two years to the day from writing the death of Callum Outteridge, I can finally, finally, _finally_ get to the fallout. For those of you still with me on this... prepare to watch me ask more of my beloved triad than I have ever asked before.
> 
> What more can I say? I'm a few days early, but... _Happy June 15th_. ;-)
> 
> Coming Up Next In Chiralityverse: The fallout. And... the beginning of the end.


	8. Acciaccato

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... still with me? I'd say 'have another chapter to help after that last cliffhanger', but I'm not sure _'help'_ is the right word here!
> 
> If I was using more generic chapter titles instead of musical terms, this one would likely have ended up being called 'The Demon Monologues'. Because he does, rather a lot, and he isn't sorry in the slightest.
> 
> Furthermore, I'm going to level with you here, this chapter is pretty messed-up. This is _probably_ as messed-up as it's going to get, although no promises on that one because they like to surprise me! I also invite you all to take a look at that dubcon warning that I slipped into the tags a while back and passed off as just being in reference to all the backstory stuff. You know, for reasons.
> 
> ...I'd say 'enjoy' at this point, but... maybe just take a really deep breath.

**Acciaccato**

_Crushed_

***

"… _No_ …" Kevin breathes, voice wrecked, like he's just been hit squarely in the chest. " ** _No_**!"

Instinct – or perhaps pure terror – overtakes the man at once, and he launches himself in Derek Hartley's direction, knife bared, clearly intent on only one thing. He doesn't get very far, though, as several of the demon-enforcers – for that is what they clearly are – seize him and hold him back, yanking the weapon from his hand and slamming him down on his knees.

"Don't you dare!" Cecil shouts and starts forward as well, but, before he can move more than a few paces, one of the demon-enforcers presses their own blade to Kevin's neck, and Cecil stops at once.

"Everyone calm down," says Derek Hartley, his tone still smooth and level, with a hint of unveiled enjoyment. "I have no desire to kill any of you just yet, but I recommend against forcing my hand."

"This is _impossible_ ," Kevin cries out, halfway between terror and rage, still on his knees but struggling against the hands holding him in place. "I watched my demon _rip you in half_! And I don't know how you came back but I will _kill_ you again and again and _again_ until it _sticks_!"

"Kevin, please," Hartley says, utterly unperturbed. "I realise this will be something of a shock to you, but there's no need for so much yelling. After all… this is such an important moment. I meant what I said before: it was quite a wait. But so, so worth it. And you brought me your double in the process. What a… _distinct_ pleasure."

The way Hartley is now looking at Cecil makes Carlos' blood go colder than ice – colder than permafrost – and he steps in front of the man without stopping to think. "Don't you look at my boyfriend like that," Carlos says, with as much fire as he can muster. "Either of them. Don't you _dare_."

Derek Hartley turns his bright blue eyes on Carlos at this, and then he laughs; cold but amused. "Well, well. Carlos. I must say, I really do wish we had met sooner. I should have brought you in when you first moved to my city and seduced my fixer. Things might have gone _quite_ differently if I had."

"But you didn't," Carlos retorts. "You decided I was unimportant. Irrelevant. You discounted me because I can't summon demons or open doors between realities. It wasn't your first mistake, and it wasn't your last. But it was a _big_ one."

"My, my, you do have some fire in you," Hartley replies. "I knew you must be more interesting than you sounded. And it seems I was indeed wrong to discount you, given that you have somehow captured the affections of my wayward fixer _and_ his equally-alluring double. No matter. It will all work to my advantage."

"How did you do it?" Kevin interjects. "I watched you die. I _watched_ you **_die_**!"

Hartley gives an odd little shrug. "You did, yes. And, I must admit, I too believed – in the seconds before your Fourth-Plane thug ripped my mortal body in half – that it was the end. I believed it right until I woke up here – just over there, in fact – back in my true, demonic form. Even I did not understand – at first – what had happened. But the answer turned out to be more wonderful than I had ever imagined."

He paces slightly closer, clearly revelling in being able to tell this story at last. "It's obvious that you know by now – that you have known for some time – that myself and the rest of the Management Board are demons. That my magnificent wife, my _beloved_ Susan, brought us to your plane in the beginning. That – to keep the planes from being ripped asunder by our long-term presence – she bound us all in mortal form. We lived as humans. Ageless, yes, and still ruled by our demon-blood. But – ultimately – finite. Or… so we all thought."

A smile crosses the demon's face; a mixture of fondness and pride. "My beloved Susan told us that, though it would still take an extra-planar weapon or another demon to kill us, death in our human forms meant death overall. I can only assume she said it to prevent us being… careless, perhaps. Either way, it was something of a shock to wake up here, after my apparent death: back in my true form, and very much alive. It seems that Susan wove a powerful energy into the magics she used to bind our human bodies: an energy that would see us returned here, to our plane of origin, should we die as mortals. She was more brilliant than even I knew, and I _knew_ she was brilliant."

"And… what?" Kevin manages. "You just sat here and seethed for an entire year?"

"In a manner of speaking," Hartley answers. "I was… angry, when I woke up here. Angry that you had turned on me. Angry that I had been ripped from my beloved Strexcorp. But then… then I realised Susan must have had a plan in place for this exact situation. That she alone knew it could happen, and she alone would be able to respond. And, even in death, she is still on my side. So I waited. I trusted. And now… I am rewarded. But I didn't simply 'sit here and seethe', Kevin. That would be a deeply inefficient use of my time. Oh no. I planned. I listened. I _prepared_ . And of course, before long, I was not alone…"

He gestures behind him, to the dais, as three more figures move into view: all of them demons, like Hartley himself, with those same ethereal blue eyes.

Nina Belmonte. Lilith Wallace. Hikaru Tachibana. Although… no sign of Aidan Outteridge.

Interesting.

"I guess _they_ told you all about the revolution in Desert Bluffs," Kevin says, letting a hint of triumph colour his tone. "About how the _dissidents_ finally won."

"They did," Hartley answers, with a sigh. "They also told me how my own second-born led the charge. I'd be proud, if I wasn't disappointed. But Naomi will pay for her betrayal, Kevin. It hurts me to say it, but… she will."

"I won't let you _touch_ her," Kevin hisses.

"Kevin, Kevin," Hartley replies, smoothly. "I won't need to. You'll be the one who puts a blade in her chest. You are rather practiced at that, after all."

"You _monster_!" Kevin howls, immediately throwing all his strength into trying to leap to his feet. He manages it, too, but doesn't get very far before the demon-enforcers have him on the ground again.

"I suggest you calm yourself," Hartley says, tone a little more clipped. "Otherwise your beloved scientist will pay the price."

"You stay _away_ from Carlos," Cecil cuts in, now stepping in front of him.

Hartley gives an easy headtilt. "Or what?"

Cecil holds his hand out to the side, letting a purple glow shine from it, and Hartley claps his hands together in delight.

"Oh, I _knew_ you were hiding something from me," he says. "I could _smell_ it on you, the day of the battle. I could all but _taste_ it. And I've only ever known one other person who tasted like _that_. It changes everything, Cecil Palmer. _Everything_. At first, I thought all I would be able to do is kill you for what you did. But now that I see I was right about you… I can go one better."

"And how exactly do you intend to do that?" Cecil demands.

"I would have thought it was obvious," Hartley answers. "You have power like my beloved Susan did. You're going to open a portal back to your plane of existence, and you're going to return myself and my esteemed colleagues to Desert Bluffs, where we will reclaim what is ours."

"It isn't yours anymore," Kevin cuts in. "The angels declared eminent domain."

Hartley gives a slightly exasperated sigh. "They did. Over the entire First Infernal Plane, I might add. It took _months_ of wrangling in the Planar Courts to get the declaration overturned. Luckily, Strexcorp employs _the_ best lawyers in the business, and not all of them are human. As of… two and a half months ago… the ruling was nullified. Naomi _thinks_ she runs the company, but the truth of the matter is that it's mine again. All I have to do is return to Desert Bluffs and take it back… with _great_ hostility."

"With your oh-so-united Management Board?" Kevin now says, changing tack. "Where is Mr Outteridge, anyway?"

"Aidan and I have… parted ways," Hartley answers. "If I had known death in our mortal forms was not death absolute, maybe I wouldn't have run him through with my blade during the Battle of Night Vale. Maybe I still would. It doesn't matter. He had turned against me. And now he is… elsewhere."

There's an edge to the demon's tone that suggests he doesn't know where Aidan Outteridge actually _is_ , and Carlos can't help thinking that's a less welcome fact than Hartley is trying to imply.

"Besides," Hartley goes on, with a distinct changing-the-subject air. "The empty place on the Management Board was soon filled by someone much more worthy…"

He gestures up to the dais once more, and a fourth figure steps finally into view, a bright smile on her face.

"What a pleasure to see you all again," says Lauren Hartley-Mallard. "It's been a while."

"Not nearly long enough," Kevin retorts. "So you survived your trip through that portal, I see."

Lauren laughs. "Of course I did, silly. It led to this plane. I was a little… _concerned_ when I first arrived, but the demons who found me quickly realised who I was and brought me here, to be reunited with my father. Everything I did in my time as leader of Strexcorp, I did in his name… and I have been rewarded for all of it."

"Including the part where you utterly lost control of the entire company and allowed it to fall to a group of angels who don't actually _exist_?" Cecil throws across, the fear obviously making him reckless.

Lauren's smile turns to a steely glower. "Do we really need all three of them alive, Dad?" she asks, tone sickly-sweet. "Surely I can kill the scientist?"

" _I_ need all three of them alive," Hartley answers, tone level but clipped. "Nevertheless, you can comfort yourself with the knowledge that they _will_ suffer for their actions."

The surety in the demon's voice leaves Carlos cold all over again, and he finds himself pressing more firmly against Cecil's back, trying to take some solace in the contact.

It isn't easy. And it gets infinitely worse when Hartley turns to the demon-enforcers holding Kevin. "Bring him here."

"Cecil, whatever he does to me, don't do a thing he says!" Kevin shouts, caught halfway between terror and rage, as the demons drag him to his feet and yank him closer to where Derek Hartley is standing.

"Oh, Kevin, even now you keep fighting," Hartley remarks, easily. "So defiant. So _brave_. It reminds me of that night at the Bloodstone, the first time you rebelled. There was such terror in your eyes, and yet you wouldn't give in. I'd like to say it cost Callum Outteridge his life… but the truth of the matter is that he was going to die one way or the other. It didn't have to be you, though. I would happily have done it myself."

"Why did he have to die at all?" Cecil cuts across, clearly trying to draw Hartley's attention away from Kevin. "Wasn't Callum family to you? The son of one of your four allies? If you could keep brainwashing Kevin, why not do it to him too?"

" _Conditioning_ ," Carlos whispers, though no one notices.

"I thought that would be obvious," Hartley answers. "Kevin is human. Without an extra-planar weapon – of which there were scant few in Desert Bluffs – he was no real threat to me. Callum, on the other hand, was half-demon. He was dangerous. Rebellious. He had to die."

"So was your younger daughter," Cecil points out. "So was Naomi. But you never did anything to _her_ , did you? How do the rest of the board feel about double-standards like those?"

"Naomi never had the guts to turn on me," Hartley retorts, just a little hotly, and Carlos can't help thinking that antagonising him at this point is probably a bad idea. "Even when she _knew_ what Kevin kept trying to do."

"She was trying to protect the people she cared about!" Kevin cuts in. "Her wife. Her friends. Probably me."

"Love can be _quite_ a weakness, can't it?" Hartley says, suddenly calming. "It can be a source of great strength, oh yes – think how much less I would have achieved without my beloved Susan – but it is also terribly dangerous. As the three of you are about to learn in quite _graphic_ detail."

"I won't let you hurt them," Kevin declares. "And you don't have your precious Bloodstone here, so you can't make me."

Hartley laughs. "Kevin, Kevin, I can't put into words how much I've missed you. But you're wrong, I'm afraid. You're very, very wrong. The Bloodstone _came_ from this plane. If you think that one little piece was bad, wait until you see the entire _gardens_ of it. Its power is subtler here, without the light of a sun to enhance it – I wonder if you can even hear its song right now? – but, trust me, given time in its presence, you would fall under eventually."

Carlos realises, at this point, that he _can_ still hear the song. It's so much more distant than it was back in Night Vale, but at the same time it sounds far _broader_. Like a whole choir, rather than a single voice. And, though it's a mercy to have the song be so much less intrusive, its continuation is nothing but bad news. As is the fact that it was subtle enough to slip out of his notice until drawn to his attention. The only thing worse than being aware of the song of the Bloodstone is _not_ being aware of it.

"Luckily for me," Hartley goes on, "I don't need to resort to such a drawn-out process. I may not have had quite the master plan that my beloved Susan set in motion, but I still have contingencies in place. In particular, I have one _very_ special hold-card where _you_ are concerned."

"Whatever you do to me, I won't turn on them," Kevin says. His voice is little more than a whisper, and it's clear he's steeling himself for something that Carlos doesn't even want to think about.

Hartley gives another soft laugh, with a fond edge to it that is just _all_ kinds of unsettling. "I really have missed you, Kevin. Your unwavering defiance is just… _intoxicating_."

He reaches out a hand, trailing fingertips down Kevin's cheek, and the man can't even flinch away because the demon-enforcers are holding him too tightly. He does his best, though, and Hartley desists after a moment, with a little sigh.

"Of course," the demon goes on, "what I miss even more is your _unquestioning devotion_. I remember the way you looked, the first time we were together. Like a man touched by a god."

"Stay away from my double!" Cecil cuts in, somehow subsuming all his fear under a patina of strength, hand glowing again.

"Cecil, please," Hartley says, almost idly. "I'll get to you in a moment. And, believe me, the fact that you and Kevin are so _very_ identical has _not_ slipped my attention."

The threat is so blatant that even Cecil falls silent in the face of it, and Carlos – still standing close behind him – wraps an arm around Cecil's waist, trying to remind him that he doesn't have to deal with this alone.

Not that he's sure what he himself can do to help.

"I'm sure they know all about _us_ ," Hartley goes on, speaking to Kevin again. From his tone, he sounds almost hopeful that Cecil and Carlos _don't_ know what went on between the two men, even though it's clear by now that they do. Or, they know enough. Carlos is quite happy to be spared the specifics.

"They do," Kevin replies. "I told them the truth." There's no need to mention the fact that it only happened days ago. They know. Which makes it one less thing for Hartley to hurt them with.

"But did you tell them the _details_?" Hartley asks, and then goes on to answer his own question whilst Kevin is still glaring at him for it. "No, I suppose you didn't. But, then again, do you even remember all of it?"

"My memories came back," Kevin says. "Once the Bloodstone was gone. It took time, but… all my memories came back."

Hartley smiles. "Did they, now? So… what about the night of Lauren and Adam's wedding? Do you remember that?"

Lauren gives a little hiss at the mention of her long-dead and apparently murdered husband, but doesn't otherwise interrupt. Kevin, meanwhile, seems to freeze for a moment before he's able to answer.

But something is wrong. The way his voice shakes as he speaks is proof enough of that. Something is very, very wrong.

"I… I remember the mezzanine… I…"

"Go on," Hartley pushes. "What came after the mezzanine?"

"I…"

"What's the matter, Kevin?" Hartley asks, sickeningly smooth. "Can't you remember?"

"I remember waking up in the summoning hall… but…"

"Do you remember what _happened_ there?"

And, at that, Kevin has no answer. Or any other words. It's as if his mind has just hit a wall and stopped.

The smile on Hartley's face at this is one Carlos knows will haunt him until his final breath.

"We performed a ritual, you and I," Hartley goes on. "You were _unwaveringly_ in favour of it at the time, although right now you might be a little more… hostile… towards the idea."

"A… ritual..?" Kevin manages.

"A ritual, yes," Hartley replies. "More specifically… a soul-bind. It took a _great_ deal to wipe the memory of it from your mind, but I couldn't have you remembering it. If nothing else, it would have revealed my true nature to you, although that isn't the primary reason."

"We're… we're _soul-bound_?!" Kevin exclaims, halfway between terror and incredulity.

"We are," Hartley answers, smiling brightly. "But it is not the kind of _common_ soul-bind you're familiar with. The kind that links you to that clichéd Fourth-Plane _thug_ you're so fond of, for example. Oh no, no, no, no. That kind is in effect all the time, applying to both parties equally, and only compels certain actions. It's more of a _business contract_ than a _true_ soul-bind. It has its place, of course, but that place is hardly the _First_ Infernal Plane now, is it? This is the Highborn Realm. We're _above_ that kind of _lower-class_ dalliance."

"Can you even hear yourself right now?" Cecil cuts in, and Hartley shoots him a glare.

"I can," the demon answers. "And I like hearing myself. So kindly shut up. _As I was saying_ , Kevin, the soul-bind between you and me is far more complex. It's similar to the bind used in the Strexcorp employment contracts, in fact, and – from what Lauren tells me – you know all about those. This particular bind is also only activated when invoked, allowing it to exist, silent and undiscovered, for years, until the binder has need of the bindee's _unquestioning obedience_."

"…What..?" Kevin gasps, horror-struck, as if his mind won't accept what he's hearing.

Carlos' certainly won't. He feels like the whole world has gone numb, right down to an atomic level.

"You understand, of course," Hartley says, idly tracing a fingertip down Kevin's cheek again. "If I had realised how completely you had slipped from my control when you were in Night Vale, I would have invoked it then and there. The day you came to see me, perhaps. The day I now realise you stole my key. But… no matter. I can invoke it now. I can invoke it right here, and – once I do – you will be back under my control. For good, this time."

"I won't let you," Kevin manages. "I won't. I…"

Hartley smiles, like he just won the whole world. "Oh, Kevin, Kevin. You can't stop me. Your oh-so-powerful double can't stop me. Your scientist _certainly_ can't stop me. And now, much as I do have a soft spot for angry, defiant-you… I think it's time to revert to devoted, loyal-you…"

To his credit, Kevin doesn't say another word. Not because he's given in, oh no, but because it's clear that pleading will get him nowhere at this point.

It's clear that nothing will. All he _can_ do is deny Hartley the satisfaction of hearing it.

Carlos can't speak either but, in front of him, he can hear Cecil murmuring, "No… no…" over and over, like he doesn't know what to do.

Like he knows there's nothing he _can_ do.

Hartley puts his hand on Kevin's chest and chants a single line in what must be Dzy-an-thyl. It makes Kevin's head jolt back at once, a single gasp slipping his lips, right before he drops straight to the floor; the demon-enforcers having already let go of him. They step further away, leaving the scene clear: Derek Hartley standing triumphant, with Kevin on his knees close by.

The silence – underscored only by the distant murmuring of the Bloodstone's song – weighs heavy as a thousand planets. And then Hartley holds out a hand, which Kevin takes without even needing to look up, rising smoothly to his feet.

And _smiling_ , in a way he hasn't in a long time.

"…Sir?" he breathes, all trace of fear or resistance gone from his voice. "I think… I think I'm back."

"You are," Hartley answers, with a broad, triumphant smile of his own. "Oh yes, my dear boy. You _are_."

Kevin's smile grows brighter and brighter, the look in his dark eyes bordering on rapture. And then Hartley reaches out, seizing hold of Kevin and pulling him in close.

And kissing him. Carlos can only watch for a second, but it's clear that Kevin isn't resisting in the slightest. Then Carlos lets out a broken little gasp, pressing his face into the back of Cecil's shoulder, unwilling to look any longer.

When the kiss breaks, Hartley turns to the demon-enforcer standing nearest to him. "Give my dear fixer his knife back. I'm sure he misses it. Then bring my other two guests closer. I would _hate_ for them to think I'm neglecting them."

The demon-enforcer nods. "At once, sir," he says, and holds out Kevin's knife, allowing the man to take it back. Kevin does so with a little flourish, eyes on Hartley as he flips the blade around and slides it into its sheath once more.

And then the demons close in on Cecil and Carlos. The situation has clearly gotten too much for the former, and the first demon is sent reeling to the ground by a blast of purple light. But, before Cecil can do any more, two of the demons seize hold of Carlos, and the blade at his throat is enough to persuade Cecil to stand down.

The demons who take hold of _him_ are decidedly more careful – and obviously a little hesitant – but they do it nonetheless, and then both men are pulled over to where Hartley and Kevin are standing.

"Cecil Palmer," Hartley says, after a moment, pacing closer to the man who now has his attention. "I must admit, much as you are _quite_ the troublemaker, I'm glad you're still alive. I realise now it would have been such a shame to waste your potential by killing you right before the Battle of Night Vale, even if it would have felt so very good. Because you _do_ have potential. Such potential. The power radiating off you was strong even then, but _now_? I suppose it's too much to hope that you might be swayed by the prospect of a life of decadence and victory at my side?"

The glower that Cecil turns in Hartley's direction at this would incinerate lesser beings. Possibly literally. "I would rather die a thousand times a day for the rest of eternity," he answers, flatly.

"I suspected as much," Hartley replies. "No matter. I'll get what I want from you the old-fashioned way. And then, when I have returned to Desert Bluffs and restored Strexcorp to its rightful position of power… then I can take my time in winning you over. In turning you."

He gives an idle shrug. "Or I can kill you. I'm certainly not ruling that one out in the long-term. As for your scientist… _his_ usefulness decreases the longer it takes for you to agree to open a planar gateway for me."

"I won't do it," Cecil breathes. "No matter what… no matter what you… I won't do it. You can't get back to our plane without me. So long as I never let you through… everyone else I care about is safe."

Hartley shrugs again. "Maybe so. But your scientist…"

"Cecil will _never_ help you," Carlos hears himself saying. "He'll never help you, because he knows _I_ would rather die than let you hurt _either_ of my adoptive hometowns. So you might as well give up now, because no matter _what_ you do, you are _never_ going to get what you want."

This gets him a long stare from Hartley, right before the demon breaks into amused laughter. "Oh, you are _precious_ , aren't you? Do you really think I'll throw my hands in the air and give up just because of a defiant little speech? Please. I am a High Count of the First Infernal Plane, and I was ruler of an entire city long before you were even born. And I get what I want, scientist. Whether it takes minutes, days, _years_. I _always_ win, in the end."

"And you have me, sir," Kevin chips in, bright and enthusiastic, and it would be hot as hell were it not soul-crushingly terrifying. "I can convince them. Both of them. Give me time… and I can win them over."

Hartley glances over at him. "Indeed? Now that would be entertaining. Productive, too, if you can make it work."

"I can," Kevin says, turning that smile of his on Carlos. "Oh, I can."

"Very well," Hartley agrees. "They can have a few hours to think things over, and then you can have a nice little talk with them. But first… you and I have _plenty_ of catching-up to do."

He lets those words hang in the air like the threat and the promise they are, before stepping back and gesturing to his demon-enforcers. "Lock these two up. Make _sure_ they can't get out. They do seem to have a talent for that."

And the demons drag both Cecil and Carlos away, leaving Kevin standing at Derek Hartley's side.

And, right now, that is the worst sentence in the world.

***

The cell where Cecil and Carlos end up isn't inside a building. It's within another of those strange stone circles, albeit one not so high and grand as the place where they first appeared on this plane. The ring of stones itself is different too, being formed of free-standing monoliths, rather than connected trilithons, and each stone ends in a single, rough point, all arcing slightly inwards. The overall effect is of some kind of ancient, gaping maw, and Carlos does not like it one bit.

The gaps between the stones do make it seem rather less _prison_ -like at first glance, although both men soon find out that there's an invisible energy field filling those gaps, and one that should most assuredly not be touched.

The only saving grace in the whole affair is that the two of them aren't split up. When the demons push him into the circle first, Carlos turns back, wanting to shout something to Cecil before they drag him away, and is surprised when the man is all but flung at him, sending the two of them reeling to the rocky ground.

And now – the inescapability of the strange cell demonstrated by unwelcome empirical evidence – here the two men sit, Carlos wrapped in Cecil's arms, both of them resting against one of the tall stones.

They don't speak for a long time. Overhead, the unnatural, turbulent sky – half-lit by whatever the unseen red light beyond the clouds is – churns and roils, lightning arcing across it at regular intervals.

"What do we do?" Carlos whispers, finally; his racing mind too much to bear.

"I don't know," Cecil admits, soft and afraid. "Even if there's a way to break the soul-bind Hartley has with Kevin – and there _must_ be a way – we'd still have to get off this plane without any of us ending up…"

The key word seems too much for him, and Cecil trails off, tightening his arms around Carlos instead.

"We can't let Hartley get back to our world," Carlos says. "We can't. He'll kill everyone we care about, and both Night Vale _and_ Desert Bluffs will end up as blood-soaked hells. No matter what he does, we…"

Now it's Carlos' turn to trail off, as the horror of the situation makes itself graphically obvious all over again.

Silence descends, instead; neither man knowing what to say. They sit as they are for another stretch of unreal time, until a sound interrupts them: a voice. A voice from beyond the ring of stones, beyond the energy field.

"I think perhaps the three of us should talk," it says, unfamiliar and level.

The two men scramble to their feet, staying very close together as they turn to look at the speaker. The person in question is another demon – like Hartley, and also male – though he's dressed in black instead of orange. He has those same ethereal blue eyes, but there's no malice in his, and right now he seems more curious than anything else.

"I'm not surprised you don't recognise me," the demon goes on. "We only met once, very briefly, and I dare say Derek had you more than a little distracted at the time. Plus, I did look human then."

In lieu of a handshake, the demon gives them both a nod. "My name is Aidan Outteridge," he says. "And I think we may be able to help each other."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and _exhale_. :-)
> 
> I had to end this one on a hope-spot, and plus I've been desperate to finally bring Aidan in on this.
> 
> Catch you all soon!
> 
> Coming Up Next In Chiralityverse: When all else fails, make a deal with a demon. Especially if that demon happens to have a score of his own to settle...


	9. Divisi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *de-lurks* So I'm back! I know there's been a little longer between updates this time around, but there is a reason.
> 
> This is the reason: you remember how last time I said things were 'about as messed-up as they were going to get'? Well, turns out I was wrong. I finished _this_ chapter a good week and a half ago, and it took me several hours to psyche-up to editing it. And once I did... I decided I just couldn't stop on the cliffhanger that this very chapter ends with. So I had to write the next chapter as well!
> 
> Long story short? You get two chapters today. I hope that will reduce the likelihood of you all wanting to hunt me down with a sharp stick when you reach the cliffhanger in question!
> 
> So. Uhm. _This_ is as messed-up as it's going to get. And, for the record, I toned it down quite a lot.
> 
> *beams* Enjoy! ;-)

**Divisi**

_Divided_

***

An odd silence follows the demon's words.

"Why should we trust anything you say?" Cecil asks, his voice level and careful, but not aggressive. "You were part of the Strexcorp Management Board. You oppressed Desert Bluffs for decades, and you attacked Night Vale as well."

Aidan Outteridge gives a little sigh, and then he nods. "It's true, I did. And I'm not going to apologise for it, either. I'm a demon. A Baron of the First Infernal Plane. Forgive the obvious line, but… it's what we _do_. But the situation we find ourselves in now is an unusual one, and I would ask you to – at the very least – hear me out."

Carlos and Cecil exchange a careful look. "All right," Cecil answers. "We're listening."

Aidan nods again. "Very well. I assume by the fact that you _are_ willing to listen that you know more about me than just my name. That you know what happened to my son."

"We know," Carlos says, unable to suppress a flicker of sympathy for the man, despite everything. "Kevin told us everything. That your son, Callum, and he were together. That they rebelled against Strexcorp. That…"

"…That Derek Hartley had him murdered," Cecil concludes, when Carlos can't quite.

"Yes," Aidan answers. "And he made Kevin do it. Made him kill his own lover. What kind of person does that?"

"Demon," Cecil points out, dryly, and Aidan gives him something of a look.

"…Touché," he concedes. "And _then_ , to make matters worse, he lied to me about it. Lied to Jessalyn – my wife – about it. Jess _died_ thinking that our only son had been murdered by dissidents. It was only after she was gone – she died the summer after Susan Hartley did – that the doubt started to set in. Maybe it was grief, I don't know. Maybe it was something Jess said in her last days. But once that doubt was in my mind, I started questioning things. And eventually… I tracked down one of the enforcers who was there that night. I found out that my friend, my ally, my _leader_ , had murdered my son."

"So you confronted him about it?" Carlos asks.

"Not at first," Aidan replies. "I waited for my moment. I knew making the truth public could upset the power balance within the Management Board. I didn't do it until we were planning the incursion into Night Vale, and I made sure it happened when all the other Management Board children were there. But… it changed _nothing_. Everyone – except for Naomi, of course – seemed perfectly happy with the idea that Callum had been a traitor, that Derek had been well within his rights to have him killed. They all but acted as though he'd done me a _favour_ by lying about it. By letting Callum be remembered as the tragic victim of a dissident attack, rather than someone who had betrayed us."

Pain crosses the demon's expression and – whilst Carlos is far too smart to trust anything the man says at face-value – it's hard to see it as anything other than genuine.

"But you didn't take action?" Cecil asks next.

"No," Aidan replies. "Not straight away. I knew I couldn't risk outright rebellion against Derek. Even if I somehow managed to kill him, the others would have turned on me the moment they found out. No. The only way it would work would be to have him die in battle. During a hostile takeover. Or – as it happened – the Battle of Night Vale."

Cecil nods. "And that's when you finally went for him?"

Aidan meets his eyes. "Yes. It's also when Derek finally went for me. We both had the same thought when that battle kicked off. We went one-on-one. And… he defeated me. He killed me. Or… so we both thought. No one knew that Derek's crazily powerful wife had built a failsafe into the binding magics she used to make us human. I woke up here, on the First Infernal Plane. And, moments later… so did Derek."

The demon gives a wry smile. "Talk about awkward."

It would almost be funny, were it not deathly serious. "What happened?" Carlos asks.

Aidan shrugs. "We shouted at each other. A lot. Both of us were still in shock from not being dead, and it probably dulled our reactions somewhat. In the end, I told him precisely where he could go and what he could do when he got there, and I stormed out of his realm."

"Wait… 'his realm'?" Cecil repeats.

"Yes," Aidan answers, gesturing around himself. "All of this. It's the part of the First Infernal Plane that belongs to Derek, in keeping with his title as one of the High Counts. Myself and the other three are all Barons, with our own realms adjacent to this one."

"So, what, the five of you ended up together in the first place because you're _neighbours_?" Carlos asks, a little incredulous.

"Basically speaking," Aidan replies, easily.

"And group barbecues aren't a thing here?" Cecil pushes. "Couldn't you just have hung out together and discussed the weather? Or sports? Why did it have to be blood and conquest?"

Aidan shrugs again. "Demon," he points out.

"…Touché," Cecil concedes.

"So why are you here now?" Carlos asks.

"Derek and I haven't spoken since that day," Aidan starts out. "But I have a couple of his enforcers in my pocket and they've been passing me information on what he's been up to. When I realised that he'd somehow managed to get his hands on the three of you… I came straight here."

"Why did he never come after you?" Cecil says. "Surely he knows you're a threat to him?"

"Oh, of course he does," Aidan replies. "But my realm is well-defended – as is his – and attacking your neighbours is _extremely_ frowned-upon."

"And yet you're here now," Carlos points out.

Aidan nods. "I am. And it's risky, I won't lie to you. His enforcers don't stand a chance against me, but all they have to do is alert Derek to my presence and this becomes a decidedly more problematic situation. So _don't_ let on that you've seen me, unless you want to blow your _only_ advantage."

"You still haven't told us what that advantage _is_ ," Cecil pushes.

"Isn't it obvious?" Aidan replies. "I want to kill Derek. You – whether you admit it or not – want to kill Derek. Both our interests are served by his death."

Cecil folds his arms. "And what's to stop you turning on us? What's to stop you picking up where Hartley left off?"

"I'm tired of it," Aidan admits. "Strexcorp was fun whilst it lasted, but those days are over now. I have no desire to go back to living as a human. No desire to go back to your plane at all. So I offer you this deal: help me kill Derek Hartley, and I will let you go. I will ensure all three of you – Kevin included – are quickly returned to your own plane, unharmed and intact, and I will see to it that any of Derek's surviving allies see fit to stay here too."

"What about the soul-bind that Hartley is using to control Kevin?" Carlos asks.

"When Derek dies, it will break," Aidan answers. "All soul-binds are nullified by the death of either party."

"And Kevin will go back to normal?" Cecil pushes.

"Yes," Aidan replies. "Yes, he will."

It's a spark of hope. A deadly, wonderful spark of hope.

"So how do we do it?" Cecil now asks.

Aidan folds his arms. "I'm working on that," he says. "Specifically, I've had one of my most trusted followers out trying to acquire something very rare and powerful. An object called an Orb of Dzy-aan."

 _Another orb?_ Carlos thinks, but doesn't mention it out loud, because they're hardly in a position to turn down help for aesthetic reasons.

"Which is?" Cecil pushes.

"A weapon," Aidan answers. "A rare and very, very illegal weapon. When used, it emits a single burst of antiplanar energy, specific to the plane from which it originates."

"…Hold on," Carlos says. "Wait. _Anti_ planar energy?"

Aidan nods. "Yes. Antiplanar energy is hard to generate and even harder to contain. That's why these orbs are so rare. And they're _illegal_ because exposure to antiplanar energy will instantly incapacitate any being who originates from the same plane as the orb in question. So if you were to use one… it would knock out Derek and all his enforcers, and the rest of the Management Board, but it wouldn't harm either of you, or Kevin."

"But… it just incapacitates them, right?" Cecil asks. "Which means the soul-bind won't break. So… won't Kevin immediately attack us?"

"It's a risk," Aidan admits. "However, I will be in position nearby – outside the range of the orb – and, once Derek is down, I'll move in. And finish him off, once and for all."

"And… it will work?" Cecil pushes. "You're sure it will work?"

"You activate an Orb of Dzy-aan within Derek's stone circle, and every demon inside will hit the ground unconscious mere seconds later," Aidan replies. "Then I charge in and kill Derek. Problem solved."

"What about Lauren?" Carlos asks. "Will it knock her out, too?"

"That, I'm not so sure about," Aidan answers. "Her human blood may protect her. However, Lauren isn't exactly the most combat-oriented person, so I'm sure I can deal with her long before she gets anywhere near the three of you. Plus, once Kevin is free of the soul-bind, he'll no doubt do his usual trick of killing anyone who moves the wrong way."

"How do we even get this thing close to Hartley?" Cecil now asks. "He's hardly going to let us walk in holding it."

Aidan looks at him in mild surprise for a moment, then realisation dawns. "Oh, you got here using a planar orb, didn't you?" he says. "An Orb of Dzy-aan is much smaller. About… what would be a good human equivalent? Perhaps the size of a golf ball. You can just hide it in your pocket."

Carlos gives the demon a suspicious stare. "You've thought this through very carefully."

Aidan seems unperturbed. "Of course I have. We only get one shot at this. If anything goes wrong… there's a high risk I die. A high risk _you_ die. So I've thought it through _very_ carefully."

Cecil and Carlos look at each other. The same wordless considerations are right there in their eyes, and it's only a moment before they nod.

It _is_ a risky plan. But it sounds like one that could work.

And they don't have any other options.

"All right," Cecil agrees, finally. "We'll do it."

Aidan nods. "Good," he says. "It shouldn't take me much longer to get hold of the orb. Once I do, I'll sneak back here and slip it to you."

"…How?" Carlos has to ask. "I mean… this energy field is…"

With an almost resigned little sigh, Aidan unfolds his arms and waves one hand right through where Carlos knows the energy field is.

"Demon, remember?" Aidan says, somewhat unnecessarily. The wings and horns make it pretty hard to miss. "Hold out until I get back. Whatever you do, don't agree to anything Derek asks. No matter what."

"We won't," Cecil answers.

"Good," Aidan says, again. "I shall return…"

And, with one last nod, the demon turns, pacing off into the haze beyond the stone circle cell, and – more rapidly than Carlos expected – vanishing from sight.

When they're alone once more, the two men wordlessly settle back where they were seated before Aidan first appeared; Carlos held in Cecil's arms, trying to take some comfort in the contact.

Neither of them seems able to speak. They might have a plan. _Might_.

But they have to hold out in the meantime.

And that? That's the really tricky part.

***

It's a little while later.

Cecil and Carlos have barely moved. They've spoken once or twice, but never for long, and they've been silent for some time when they hear movement beyond the stone circle.

And not from the back, where Aidan was lurking before. This time, it's from the side they were brought in from. The _bad_ side.

"There you are," comes a smooth, familiar voice that cuts Carlos to the core; a voice that should fill him with excitement, rather than terror.

It's Kevin. He paces into view, a veritable wall of demon-enforcers at his back, smile as bright as the sun.

He really is radiant when he's like this. Radiant. Resplendent. _Terrible_.

Cecil and Carlos leap to their feet at once and – before Carlos can object – Cecil steps squarely in front of him.

"We have nothing to say to you," Cecil starts out, and his tone is so familiar that it takes Carlos right back to the early days of the revolution in Night Vale, before they realised Kevin was actually on their side.

When they thought he was still like _this_.

"Oh, Cecil, Cecil, I think that you do," Kevin replies, smooth and sure.

There's a subtle flicker in the energy field right in front of where Kevin is standing, and it fades away, allowing him to pace inside the circle. Four of the demon-enforcers follow, whilst the rest remain outside.

Watching.

"You stay away from us," Cecil insists. "We won't help you. We won't help _him_. And this… Kevin, this isn't you. You don't have to do this. You don't have to be what that _monster_ made you."

"Oh, he's no monster," Kevin answers, all too easily. "And I don't just _have_ to be what he made me, I _want_ to be. I'm back where I belong, Cecil, and part of you knows it. But this doesn't have to be unpleasant. You know how much I care for you both. Agree to do what Mr Hartley asks, and you won't be hurt, I promise. You can live long, happy lives under Strexcorp's comforting aegis."

"We would rather die," Carlos hears himself declare, stepping around Cecil, well before his conscious mind has time to carry out any sensible thought on the matter. "And so would you."

The smile on Kevin's face brightens even more. "Sweet, beautiful Carlos," he says. "You really are the most target-shaped man I've ever known."

He gives a nod, and two of the demon-enforcers move at once, yanking Cecil and Carlos apart, then seizing Cecil's arms and holding him firm. At the same time, Kevin grabs hold of Carlos and slams him back against the nearest standing stone, knife drawn in mid-motion and pressed under Carlos' jaw before he has the chance to process what's happened.

"Stop!" Cecil shouts, trying to fight the demons holding him.

Kevin looks sideways at his double. "Cecil, please. If you try anything – anything at all – this will end badly, and you know it. So, much as I love how mind-blowingly powerful you are, try to rein it in, hmmm?"

"You do _anything_ to Carlos and I'll–"

"You'll what?" Kevin pushes, oh so smoothly, and damn it all to the deepest depths of the furthest infernal plane but that tone is _distracting_. "You won't hurt me, Cecil. You can't. That's why this will work."

Cecil stops fighting against the hands holding him back, and instead turns his strongest glower on Kevin. "You are going to be in _so much trouble_ when we get you home!"

"That's a risk I'm willing to take," Kevin purrs. "Now…" And he turns to look at the man on the other side of his knife. " _Carlos_."

"We won't help you," Carlos says, trying to keep his voice level. Trying to fight the tangle of emotions at his core. "We won't."

"Cecil will," Kevin replies, pressing the knife in just a little closer, so that Carlos has to tilt his jaw back to edge away from it. "He will, to save you. You've always been his greatest weakness. And when I break you… it will break him too."

"I won't give in to you," Carlos insists, though his voice has fallen to barely more than a whisper, and he knows he's shaking.

And he knows it isn't all from fear.

Kevin gives a soft little laugh, tilting Carlos' jaw even further back with the edge of the blade, and leaning in so close that there's barely more than a breath between them.

"You will," Kevin tells him, so certain and sure. "You always do."

And, before Carlos can try to reply to this, Kevin presses in and kisses him. _Hard_. And it is so damnably difficult to resist because – under normal circumstances – being pinned to things by Kevin and then forcefully kissed happens to be one of Carlos' very favourite activities. Plus, right now, he feels like his whole mind is filled with fog, and distant song, and…

The realisation hits like a wave, swiftly followed by a similarly intense burst of terror, and Carlos pushes Kevin back as hard as he can. It clearly takes the man by surprise – given that it actually works – although the victory is short-lived because Kevin is in his face again within seconds, blade over his throat once more.

"Oooh, feeling fiery, are we?" Kevin remarks. "I recommend you put a stop to it, unless you want to find out just what I can do in response…"

Carlos fights to focus. "I won't… I won't let you…"

"You don't have a choice," Kevin tells him. "You know that. This isn't the first time I've broken through your mental defences. _And I'm better at it now_. I know every last little button to press…"

The blade at Carlos' throat starts to stroke slowly, lightly over his skin, and Carlos can't hold back a soft, tiny gasp at the sensation.

"Kevin, _stop_ ," Cecil says, but the force in his voice is rapidly melting to desperation.

"I'm so glad you're watching this time, Cecil," Kevin tells him. "I love it when you watch."

Cecil immediately tries to break free from the demons, a flash of anger in his eyes, but Kevin chooses to deal with it by pressing in to kiss Carlos again. And, even though Carlos tries to resist, he somehow finds himself leaning into it at the same time, the world going increasingly hazy around the edges.

"That's it," Kevin breathes, breaking the kiss, as Cecil goes still and drops his head for a moment so he doesn't have to watch. "That's it. You'll feel so much better when you give in. All the fear and worry will go away. Isn't that what you want?"

"…Stop," Carlos whispers. "I… I won't…"

"You will," Kevin tells him, once more. "You will. Do you know why this is so easy for me?"

The question sends a fresh stab of alarm through Carlos, briefly dragging his mind back from the edge, and he blinks at Kevin in slowly dawning horror.

Because he can remember why this worked the first time. And, in the recesses of his mind, he can still hear the song.

Smile unfading, Kevin pulls something from under his shirt: something hanging on a long, delicate chain around his neck. The instant he does, Carlos feels his whole body go rigid with alarm, and even having known – all along – that this must be coming, he still can't quite let himself accept it.

The thing in question is, of course, a piece of bloodstone. Unlike all the others he's seen, this one has been carefully cut and shaped into a long, smooth, five-sided pendant; elegant and deliberate.

And it glows. Softly, subtly, but there nonetheless.

"You know what that thing _is_ ," Cecil growls, when Carlos can't get a word out. "You know what it _does_."

"Oh yes, Cecil, I do," Kevin answers. "I know so very well. And Carlos knows too, don't you? He knows. He _remembers_. With the aid of the Bloodstone, I was able to help him see the light once before. And now… it's true that its power is subtler here. I think it's _also_ true that our beautiful scientist has gotten better at resisting. But it won't be enough…"

Kevin turns his attention back to Carlos, lifting the blade again and starting to trace the edge of it along the line of his jaw. Under different circumstances the act would be _extraordinarily_ lovely, and he can't hold back a soft gasp as the cool, deadly metal brushes over his skin.

"I know you like that," Kevin says, his voice taking on a low, hypnotic tone once more. "I know how much. Just let yourself give in to it, Carlos. Let yourself give in to _me_. You know how good I can make this for you. I can take away all the fear. All the worry."

"I won't…" Carlos breathes. "I… _won't_ …"

He summons all his strength – of mind and body – and pushes Kevin back again. It's extraordinarily dangerous, especially with that knife in the mix, but if he doesn't take action soon, he's frightened the other man _will_ pull him under.

And he can't let that happen.

The movement seems to take Kevin more by surprise this time, and he staggers just slightly. It's long enough for Carlos – throwing caution to the wind – to go for him, trying to knock the weapon from his hand. He knows, on a subconscious level, that he isn't going to get very far, but he has to try. He has to.

Kevin recovers frighteningly fast, not letting go of his knife, and before Carlos can attempt anything else, he finds himself slammed roughly back against that standing stone, wrists pinned together above his head, blade pressed terrifyingly close to his throat and Kevin _right_ in his face.

"Carlos!" Cecil shouts in alarm, trying to break free from the demons again, and not getting very far.

" _Quiet_ ," Kevin hisses, glaring over at him, before turning that same expression on Carlos himself. "And _you_. I would recommend against trying that again. I would also suggest that, when trying to engage in a knife-fight, you start by _having a knife_. Otherwise, this happens."

"Stop," Carlos whispers, adrenaline now flooding his blood like poison. "I… Kevin, please…"

"You're not in control here," Kevin reminds him, softer again. " _I_ am. But you like that, don't you? Some part of you has always liked that. Some part of you has always wanted to give in to me. So _give in_. Give in, Carlos…"

The haziness in the world has come back with a vengeance, and Kevin's words pull it in closer and closer. That slow, seductive song underscores everything; a soft cloud cushioning the jagged terror in his heart, making it all start to go still.

Maybe it would be better. Maybe, if Carlos gives in, he won't have to be afraid anymore. Maybe…

"That's it," Kevin says, soothingly. "That's right. Let the song fill you up. Let my words fill you up. Let yourself sink down…"

" _Yes_ ," Carlos breathes, as the world starts to slide sideways. "Yes…"

" **No**!" Cecil interjects, seconds before a shockwave of purple light blazes out from where he's standing, lifting the dust from the rocky ground, and sending every being within the stone circle – human and demon alike – sprawling to the floor.

Chaos erupts. All four of the demons inside the circle go for Cecil at once, scrambling up and struggling to get hold of him. This is made somewhat more difficult by the fact that – palms still glowing – Cecil blasts one of the demons straight onto his back again, trying to fight his way over to Carlos and Kevin.

Hitting the floor is enough to stop Carlos' mind going squarely under, but the whole world still looks hazy, and all the sound seems distant as he tries to pick himself up. He barely has a chance to work out where Kevin is before the man seizes hold of him again, yanking him into the centre of the stone circle and slamming him down on his knees.

"Cecil!" Kevin shouts, and the seriousness in his tone is enough to slow his double's course of action. Enough to give the other man a chance to see what's happening, and to rethink flooring another of the demon-enforcers.

Carlos is on his knees, Kevin right behind him, holding his shoulder, blade at his throat. That carved piece of bloodstone at Kevin's neck seems to be glowing all the brighter, and the mere sight of it seems to freeze Cecil in mid-step.

"Mr Hartley needs you alive, Cecil," Kevin says, tone deathly serious. "He does not need Carlos. So I suggest you heed my earlier advice and _rein it in_ , unless you want this to end badly."

There's a long, heavy pause, and then Cecil lets his hands drop, nodding his head a little numbly.

"Good choice," his double replies, before he gives a nod to the demons. "Hold him."

Carlos' mind processes Cecil as the target of this order, which means he's rather taken aback when Kevin lets go of him and moves towards Cecil instead. The demons – seemingly more than a little pleased to be kept away from Cecil – grab hold of Carlos, yanking him to his feet and holding him firm.

Kevin, meanwhile, backs Cecil into the nearest standing stone, not even laying a finger on him until his double is pressed up against the rock. "If you wanted my attention, Cecil, you only had to ask," he purrs.

"I want you to leave Carlos alone," Cecil throws back, his own tone firm. "I want you to fight that ridiculous soul-bind. I want you with _us_ , where you belong."

"Oh, Cecil, you really are so very noble," Kevin replies. "I've always loved that about you. And I certainly wouldn't want you feeling left out. I care for you just as much as I care for Carlos. But our relationship has a different… _hue_ , doesn't it? Carlos likes it when I overpower him. You… well. You like to be the strong one. But _I'm_ the strong one right now."

He lifts his knife with a flourish, pressing it against Cecil's throat. "I wondered once if you would turn out to be a screamer. I still don't know for sure. Shall we find out?"

"I wouldn't give you the satisfaction," Cecil tells him.

"Who said anything about _giving_?" comes the most unwelcome voice in all the multiverse. "We are Strexcorp. We _take_ what is ours."

Kevin turns back – still keeping Cecil in place with that blade – as Derek Hartley steps inside the circle. The demon moves with ease and confidence, a smile on his face, predatory and pleased.

"Sir," Kevin says, tone full of fervour. "Did you need me for something?"

"Oh, no," Hartley replies. "I merely felt a wave of rather powerful energy and decided I should come and check you had everything under control. I see now that you do, of course. You've always been so very competent."

"I learned from the best," Kevin answers, in what is evidently meant as a modest voice. "I've just been discussing the finer details of the current situation with my dear double. And with lovely Carlos. He certainly is stronger than he used to be. This time last year, I would have been able to have him on his knees with a snap of my fingers by this point. But no matter. I enjoy a challenge."

"I remember," Hartley remarks. "Although, I must say, I am glad to have walked in on you and your double like this. He really is positively _delicious_ , isn't he? Two of you at the same time. Now _that_ is going to be fun. Wouldn't you agree, Carlos?"

" _Go to Hell_ ," Carlos hisses, with as much energy as he can muster through the fear, and the after-effects of what Kevin has been doing to him.

Hartley shrugs. "I've been," he says, idly. "The real-estate prices are ridiculous and don't even get me _started_ on the décor."

"This isn't going to work," Cecil cuts across. "I will never help you. I will never let you get back to Desert Bluffs or to Night Vale."

Hartley gives a little sigh, and then nods to Kevin, and the man clearly knows what it means because he moves at once, slipping his knife away and then pulling Cecil closer to Hartley, stepping in to drag his hands behind his back and hold him. It's such an alarming sight that instinct alone makes Carlos try to pull away from the demons still holding _him_ , though he doesn't get very far.

" _Cecil_ ," Hartley starts out, smoothly. "You have that same spark of defiance as your double. It really is quite something. But, like Kevin, you will find things become infinitely more pleasant for you once you start to see things my way."

"I will _never_ let you win," Cecil tells him.

Hartley slips a hand under Cecil's jaw, lifting it with a faux-gentle edge. "Oh, you will," he answers. "And my victory will be all the sweeter when you do."

Cecil tries to flinch away from the demon's touch. "I would rather die."

"There are things far worse than death," Hartley reminds him, tone still idle and yet, at the same time, heavy with a sudden threat that makes Carlos' blood go cold.

"There is _nothing_ worse than letting you win," Cecil insists. His voice is barely more than a whisper now, but the defiance hasn't faded from it.

Hartley smiles, almost fondly, and traces those fingertips along the side of Cecil's cheek. "You really are as pure as you seem, aren't you? Corrupting Kevin was easy, but still _so_ very satisfying. Corrupting you… oh, now, that _will_ be something."

Cecil doesn't even dignify this with a response. There's a long, drawn-out pause, every breath laden with danger, and then Hartley's eyes go to Kevin. "Bring him," he orders. "I think perhaps he needs to see."

" _No_!" Carlos shouts in horror. "Don't you dare!"

But there's nothing he can do. Nothing he can do to prevent Kevin dragging Cecil out of the stone circle, Hartley following them both. Nothing he can do to break free of the hands still holding him; not until they finally let go, and he falls to his knees on the rocky ground, paralysed by horror as the demon-enforcers withdraw as well.

Staggering to his feet, Carlos runs over to the edge of the circle, hammering on the invisible energy field without a thought for how much it hurts, watching until the last of the figures disappear into the mist.

And he's alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...LOOK SEE THERE IS ANOTHER CHAPTER UP ALREADY!
> 
> *backs away slowly*


	10. Con Anima

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...see, look, another chapter!
> 
> Niiiiiice reader, put down the pointy stick...

**Con Anima**

_With Feeling_

***

Carlos isn't sure how long he's left on his own for. There's no way to measure time in this place – and time doesn't exist – so all he has is his perception of the empty space between one event and the next.

It might be no more than ten or fifteen minutes. It might be hours. He really isn't sure. His perception of the empty space is just that: empty. Empty, cavernous, like a galactic void without so much as a speck of visible starlight.

And then he hears the voice.

"You really are having a bad day, aren't you?"

Carlos feels as though he jumps a mile; leaping to his feet from where he's been slumped against one of the standing stones and backing off a little, trying to find the source of the voice.

Not that he needs to. He recognises it well enough.

Lauren Hartley-Mallard emerges from the mist. He hasn't paid her much mind since they got here – given that he's had other problems to deal with – but right now there's nothing to keep Carlos' attention from her.

It's probably best that he _does_ keep his attention on her, too, given that the first time she heard his name, she threatened his life, and things really have gone downhill from there. But some part of him has always wondered what happened to her after she fell through the portal to this very plane, that day in Desert Bluffs. One year ago this Saturday.

Whenever 'this Saturday' is.

"I've had better days," he answers, very carefully.

All of them, in fact. None worse than this. Except, maybe, the day of the time loop at the Bloodstone.

"So I've noticed," Lauren remarks, smoothly. She still has the unerring ability to watch him like a predatory bird watches a mouse, although there is something odd about her expression right now. "How are you enjoying the First Infernal Plane so far?"

"I'm not," Carlos replies, dryly.

"A pity. It's charming. Don't you think it's charming?"

"Was there something you wanted?" Carlos asks, not deigning to answer her question. Really not wanting to have anything to do with her at all, in fact.

"To talk to you, of course," is Lauren's reply, with a faux-nonchalant edge to her tone. "I'm sure you can spare me a moment. You aren't exactly _busy_ right now."

"Yes, I am," Carlos insists. "Very busy. With science."

Lauren blinks at him, and then at the empty stone circle, the obvious question there in her unnatural blue eyes.

"…In my _head_ ," Carlos clarifies. "I'm busy with science in my head."

"I see," Lauren answers. "Well. Clear a moment in your _busy_ schedule, then."

Now Carlos folds his arms. "And why would I do that?"

"Because I asked, silly. And because it's polite."

"Do I need to remind you of the _multiple_ times you have threatened my life?" Carlos now tries, wondering precisely what the woman is playing at. "The other things you've done? Trying to let the Smiling God loose in Desert Bluffs? Ring any bells?"

This makes Lauren laugh, bright and melodious, albeit cut suddenly short and replaced with a rather more steely stare. "I remember all those things. _Vividly_. I also remember you and your little friends… and my _sister_ … thwarting my every move."

Despite it all, Carlos manages what he hopes is a pleased smile. "Yes. We did do that. Remind me again what you wanted?"

It's the fear. It has to be. The fear is making him reckless.

Rather than answer directly, Lauren takes a couple of idle paces, albeit still watching him with hawkish intent. "I just wondered what you're planning right now."

Carlos stares at her, caught between incredulity and outright confusion. "Lauren, please. Even if I _was_ planning something, do you seriously think I'd tell _you_? Right now, your father – a _demon_ – has one of my boyfriends enthralled and is doing _Einstein_ -knows-what to the other. We're not exactly besties."

"You know, I had quite a thing for Kevin back in the day," Lauren remarks, apropos of nothing. "We would have been _really_ good together. But… it didn't work out."

"The only-into-guys part probably played a role in that," Carlos points out, tone dry again.

"I guess so," Lauren goes on. "Plus then he shacked up with my ex-boyfriend. And then later on he shacked up with my dad."

A long pause, mostly because Carlos isn't quite sure how to respond to this.

"…You dated Callum?" he manages. He remembers Kevin mentioning it, but it still feels like an odd match, from what he's been told about the man.

Lauren nods. "Yep. Didn't work out. Far too much of a goody two-shoes. At least until he turned out to be a dissident. You'd probably have liked him, though. He was very…"

She trails off, finishing the sentence with a vaguely-waving sort of gesture in Carlos' direction, evidently meant to encompass all of him in general. "…Except without the science."

Carlos tries not to dwell too much on the comparison. Or on any of it.

There's another pause. "Do you think it's weird?" Lauren asks.

"Do I think what is weird?"

"That the guy I had a thing for shacked up with my ex, and then my dad."

Carlos stares at her. "The first part, no. The second part… definitely."

"Hmmm," Lauren murmurs. "I thought so."

She paces a little again. Carlos knows the action is telling, but he's can't yet work out _what_ it tells.

"You want to see something really cool?" Lauren asks and – before he can answer – she pulls something from where it's been concealed beneath her jacket.

Instinct alone makes Carlos step back, because the object in Lauren's hands is a glittering shard of bloodstone… of _the_ Bloodstone. He's sure of it. Sure it's the same piece that Kevin kept hidden for days during the revolution in Desert Bluffs. The same one he used to destroy the portal leading right here.

It sings, soft and low and familiar; heavy with the resonance of days past.

"Why do you have that?" he asks, softly.

"Why not?" Lauren counters. "It was all I had when I first got here. I keep it as a reminder."

"But… doesn't it bring back some rather unwelcome memories for you?"

Lauren shrugs. "I guess so. But good ones, too. Like… coming to this place, for instance."

She pauses, giving him a careful look. "Are you _sure_ you don't have a plan?"

"Lauren, _what_ is this in aid of?" Carlos counters.

"…I really like it here," Lauren says, and keeping up with her erratic train of thought is becoming a little dizzying. "I mean, seriously. I live in a _castle_ now. An actual _castle_. It has a whole _basement_ filled with Rooms of Questions. And a drawbridge. And _top-notch_ wi-fi. I mean, what more could a girl want?"

"…Trees?" Carlos suggests. "And… you know, alive things?"

Lauren looks wholly unimpressed. "Nature?" She shudders. "Please, no."

"You're pretty well-suited to this place, then."

"Aren't I just?" she agrees, finally slipping that Bloodstone shard away again. "I mean, it was a bit of a shock when I first appeared here, but once they worked out who I was… oh, it was just the _best_. I love it. The aesthetic, the décor; it's so very… _me_. I could live here _forever_."

She stops the pacing and stands stock-still, staring at him. "You get me now?"

Carlos stares back, not even daring to breathe. Is _Lauren_ having _second thoughts_?

"I… yes," he manages, trying to keep his expression level. "Yes. I do."

Lauren claps her hands together, suddenly brightening again. "Good, good! I knew you would. You… you just remember that. You know, in the future. Well! I must be going. So much to do. I am _very_ busy and important, you know."

She gives him a cheery wave. "Bye-bye now!"

And, before Carlos can come up with a response, Lauren turns and walks off, quickly vanishing into the mist. When she's gone, he keeps staring after her, trying to work out if that whole conversation actually happened or not.

What is Lauren playing at? Did she mean what she said? Or is it part of some larger trap?

Carlos doesn't know. But he suspects he needs to find out.

***

It isn't too much longer before a pair of demon-enforcers bring Cecil back.

The movement comes out of nowhere; two winged figures emerging through the mist and walking into the stone circle, dragging a third, non-winged figure between them. They drop Cecil unceremoniously on the ground in the centre of the open space, and then stalk off without a word.

The instant they're gone, Carlos gives a yelp of alarm and races over to his boyfriend, all but throwing himself down onto the ground and rolling Cecil onto his back, putting a hand on the side of his face.

"Cecil? Cecil… can you hear me?"

Cecil's eyes open and he blinks in confusion. "…Carlos? Are you… are you real?"

Renewed panic floods Carlos' whole body. "Of course I'm real! I… Cecil, what happened to you?"

For a moment, Cecil just keeps staring blearily at him, and then he launches himself upwards, wrapping his arms around Carlos' shoulders and holding on tight.

"I thought…" Cecil manages, voice heavy with terror. "I… Carlos, are you all right?"

"Am _I_ all right?" Carlos repeats, pulling Cecil in closer and not letting go. "Cecil… what did that monster _do_ to you?"

For a moment, Cecil can't even answer. He closes his eyes and presses further into Carlos' arms, and all Carlos can do is hold him and wait, in increasing horror, for a reply.

"Hartley showed me an army," Cecil starts out, finally. "A vast army of demons. He doesn't just want me to open a portal for him and the rest of the Management Board. He wants to take hundreds of those enforcers, too. He wants Desert Bluffs back, but Night Vale? He… Carlos, he wants to destroy it. Wants to kill _everyone_. And… and then…"

He trails off, and Carlos just strokes his cheek gently, over and over, trying to ground him.

"…He showed me where the Bloodstone came from," Cecil goes on, eventually, voice hollow. "A whole garden of it, stretching out and out and… and all of it glowing, _singing_ , and I…"

He shudders. "…It made me see things. I couldn't tell if any of it was real. But I…"

Carlos wraps him in tightly again. "It's OK," he whispers, even though none of this is remotely close to 'OK'. "It's OK. You're with me, now."

He doesn't even want to think about what Cecil might have seen. What he might have thought was happening. All he knows is that having the man back in his arms is more of a relief than he can put into words.

"What about Kevin?" he asks, after a moment.

"Still completely under Hartley's control," Cecil answers. "Nothing I said got through to him. Not even a little. It's just horrifying. I…"

Another hollow pause. "…I don't know how to save him."

"We'll find a way," Carlos insists. "We will. Even if we have to drag him back to Desert Bluffs and ask Naomi to help. If anyone knows how, she does."

"We just have to work out how to get him – and us – away from Hartley first," Cecil says.

"I believe that is where I come in," a voice remarks, from the edge of the circle.

It's Aidan Outteridge. He steps through the mist, smooth and careful, wings stretching out behind him before curling in close to his back again, and Carlos can't help wondering if the man has just been flying.

Can they do that? He supposes they can.

Carlos and Cecil both scramble to their feet – Cecil needing more than a little support – and pace across to where the demon is standing, close to where he was the first time. Aidan looks them over as they approach, his expression unsurprised.

"Derek showed you the garden, then," he says, without preamble.

Cecil manages a nod, still leaning on Carlos, who tightens an arm around him again.

"And yet you resisted? Interesting, if perhaps to be expected. The level of power you have tends to be accompanied by a comparable strength of will. Are you all right?"

"Do I look all right?" Cecil replies, though his voice is soft, and somehow that's far more alarming. "And, for that matter, do you actually care?"

Aidan gives a sigh. "Yes, Cecil, I do. If I didn't, I wouldn't be risking my life by talking to you."

"Please tell me you have good news," Carlos cuts across.

In response, Aidan slips a hand inside his robe and pulls out a single, glittering orb. It is, as he told them earlier, about the size of a golf ball, and glows with a vibrant orange light, as though filled with dozens of tiny stars.

"This," he says, "is an Orb of Dzy-aan. It is, I remind you, intensely powerful and cripplingly illegal. Planar-specific weapons were explicitly outlawed in the Second Infernal Accords and they are not easy to find, or to make."

"So how, exactly, did you get it?" Carlos asks, still suspicious about this part.

"I told you, I sent one of my best followers," Aidan answers. "I guess you could say she's _my_ fixer, although I should point out that she's also a demon, and we are not engaged in an intensely creepy relationship, so you can wipe those looks off your faces."

"And… this thing will work?" Cecil pushes.

"Oh yes. It will work. Just throw it at the ground, hard enough to break it, and watch every demon in range drop nigh-on instantly. I saw one used, a long time ago. It's impressive. Covers a twenty-metre radius, minimum."

"We need to make sure the whole Management Board is there," Cecil now says. "We have to take them all out at once. If I… If I tell Hartley I'll do what he wants, and agree to open the portal, surely he'll call everyone together?"

"That would be my suggestion," Aidan agrees. "It's risky, I won't lie, but it's your best shot. And I'll be watching from the shadows. As soon as everyone goes down, I'll storm in and kill Derek. I only wish I could make sure he knew who had finally ended him… but I'll settle for knowing that my son's murder has been avenged."

"Callum was a traitor," comes the most unwelcome voice in the multiverse. "As are you, Aidan."

What happens next does so very fast. Carlos and Cecil both turn to see Derek Hartley entering the stone circle from the far side, with Kevin next to him, and Nina Belmonte, Lilith Wallace and Hikaru Tachibana all close behind. At the same moment, Aidan howls something in what Carlos guesses is Dzy-an-thyl, hand going for his knife, clearly intent on violence.

A second later, Cecil swipes the glittering orb from Aidan's other hand and throws it across the circle without so much as pausing for breath. There's an instant that lasts a thousand ages, during which the tiny ball of orange light arcs through the open space and streaks towards the group of demons, like an avenging meteorite hurtling towards a planet.

And then, almost idly, Derek Hartley snaps his own hand out and catches the orb in midair; holding it unmoving for a second as if to let the sight sink in, before he turns it and stares down at the object he's holding.

"An Orb of Dzy-aan?" he remarks. "My, my, Aidan, you really _are_ desperate, aren't you? Do you know how illegal they are?"

He offers it sideways, allowing Nina to take it from his hand. "I remember the last time we had one of these," she says, tracing fingertips over the glittering sphere. " _Imagine_ the trouble we would have been in if anyone had survived to tell of it…"

"That was quite a day," Lilith concurs, with an almost wistful tone, leaning in close. "So many of our enemies, taken out with a single, glorious stroke."

Nina holds the orb out to Hikaru. "Can you have your people secure it?"

He nods, taking it from her and turning it over in his hands, appraisingly. "Of course. Nobody will know we have one. Might come in handy later on. Especially if we need a _second_ , glorious stroke…"

Before the three of them can get any worse, Aidan gestures at Hartley with his knife. "Enough of this!" he says. "I'll just kill you myself, right here, right now."

"You are _welcome_ to try," Hartley answers, so very easily. "You couldn't do it before. And, this time, I'm not even on my own."

"Oh yes," Kevin agrees, with a smile, as he takes a deliberate step in front of Hartley. "This time he has _me_."

Aidan gives him a flat look. "I think maybe Derek meant those three," he says, gesturing at his former colleagues.

"I meant all of them," Hartley answers, smoothly. "Kevin included. You want to go one on one with him? I'd even give him my knife, so when he finally stabs you in the chest, it will actually work. That would be poetic justice, wouldn't? Father and son, both killed by the same man, with the same borrowed blade."

"You _son of a bitch_ ," Aidan hisses.

"Now, now, don't you impugn my mother's honour," Hartley chides. "Especially not so soon after slinking back out of the shadows. You don't have the right."

"Would you five prefer to have your domestic somewhere else?" Cecil cuts in.

"Oh, Cecil, I see you're feeling better," Hartley says, smiling brightly. "I am glad. I was worried. Although, catching you plotting my downfall with the man who betrayed me… that hurts. It hurts a great deal. And it certainly doesn't help your future employability prospects."

"Do I look concerned about my _employability prospects_?" Cecil retorts, clearly drawing on all the energy he has left.

Hartley gives a faux-idle shrug. "You should be. Shouldn't he, Kevin?"

"Yes, sir," Kevin answers. "Absolutely. _Very_ concerned."

Hartley steps up behind him, sliding an arm around his waist and pulling him in close, and Kevin's dark eyes flicker with obvious pleasure.

"Could you _not_ do that in front of us?" Carlos says, suddenly; emotion getting the better of him.

"You think this is good, scientist, you just wait until I have them _both_ ," Hartley replies, not desisting in the slightest. "Assuming you survive to see it, of course. Maybe I'll even let them keep you…"

"Not another word!" Cecil shouts, stepping in front of Carlos and staring Hartley down. "I would _never_ hurt Carlos. **Ever**."

Hartley laughs. "I do so love your fire. You're just like Kevin in that respect. In many respects, in fact."

His eyes go to Aidan, who is still poised in the middle of the circle, blade drawn. It's obvious he knows he's caught, but he won't stand down.

"What about Aidan?" Hartley pushes, still talking to Cecil. "Would you kill him for me?"

Cecil folds his arms. "No."

"Not even to save your precious scientist?"

"I will never kill for you," Cecil says, firmly. "Not anyone. Not for any reason."

"Oh, you're so noble," Hartley sighs. "It's downright intoxicating. A little tedious, too, but what is life without challenge?"

"If the human won't kill him, can we?" Nina cuts in, with an edge of impatience. "He did betray _all_ of us, remember?"

"It's tempting," Hartley admits. "It's _very_ tempting. But… I think we'll keep Aidan alive for now. He was one of us, once. The least we can do is let him witness our final victory. The last hostile takeover. The end of Night Vale and the reclamation of Desert Bluffs."

"And then what?" Aidan pushes. "A big, dramatic 'join us or die' moment?"

"Oh no, no," Hartley answers. "No joining us. Just the dying part. I'll keep you alive long enough to see Strexcorp returned to its true power; maybe even long enough to see the Smiling God finally enter that oh-so-special plane of existence. Certainly long enough to drive home precisely what you gave up when you betrayed us. And then? Then you die. You die by Kevin's hand, so you can have the same final sight as Callum did."

"I'm going to rip you in half!" Aidan roars, and launches himself at Hartley.

The taller demon doesn't blink. Nor, indeed, does his fixer. They merely stand and watch whilst Nina and Lilith draw their blades and step in front of their leader, grabbing hold of Aidan and wrestling him to the ground at knifepoint. It only takes a moment, and involves a lot of shouting in Dzy-an-thyl that Carlos is confident isn't very polite.

Nina yanks the weapon from Aidan's grip and tosses it idly to Hikaru, who is watching as well, still turning the orb over and over in one hand at the same time.

"Oh, Aidan, Aidan, Aidan," Hartley chides, softly. "It really is such a shame things had to go this way. You were so loyal in the beginning. So _very_ loyal."

"You _deserved_ my loyalty back then," Aidan retorts, staring up at Hartley from where he's been slammed down on his knees by the two women. "You were my leader. My ally. I would have followed you anywhere, trusted you with anything. And then you murdered my son and didn't even have the _guts_ to tell me why."

"I did what was necessary for the company," Hartley says. "For Strexcorp. I make no apology for that."

Aidan doesn't even dignify this with a response, and merely intensifies the strength of his glare. Hartley stares back at him for a moment, then pulls Kevin in close and whispers something in his ear: something that makes an odd expression cross his fixer's face, followed by a bright smile.

"Anything for you, sir," Kevin answers, graciously.

And he draws his knife, slow and dramatic; a man who wants to be noticed. Aidan's eyes go to him at once, flicking between Kevin and Hartley in alarm. Kevin, meanwhile, paces closer, giving a little gesture to Nina and Lilith as he moves. Clearly understanding, they tug Aidan to his feet, still holding him tightly between them.

Now Aidan's eyes flick to Kevin's knife. It is hard not to look at Kevin's knife when the man has it drawn. It's like an extension of his body: deadly and terrible and wonderful.

Carlos presses in against Cecil's back, glad that no one is paying attention to his expression right now.

"That's a human weapon," Aidan points out. "You can't kill me with it."

Kevin gives an easy little shrug. "True," he concedes. "But I can _hurt_ you with it."

And, with just the barest pause to let this sink in, he steps up and stabs Aidan squarely in the chest. The man lets out a gasp of shock, followed by a muted roar of pain, struggling to keep his footing.

"You _son of a bitch_ …" Aidan hisses, falling onto one knee as the two women stop trying to hold him up. "You miserable, hateful little…"

"Now, now, that isn't very polite," Kevin interjects, in a pleasant, matter-of-fact tone.

"I wasn't," Aidan growls, "talking to _you_."

His eyes go back to Hartley, narrowed and murderous, but the man in question seems completely unfazed. He watches as Aidan claps a bloodied hand over his own chest, biting his lip in pain, though judging by his reaction he really isn't about to die. Otherwise he would likely have done so already.

Carlos has been told plenty of times about demonic immunity to non-demonic weapons, but he's never seen such graphic proof of it. It's more than a little unsettling.

"This is going to hurt for _hours_ ," Aidan adds, struggling back to his feet and finding himself immediately seized by Nina and Lilith again.

"It's less than you deserve," Hartley replies. "But we'll get to the rest in time. For now… much as all of this really is _very_ entertaining, I think I've waited long enough."

He nods to Hikaru. "Bring my _favourite_ guest closer, would you?"

The other demon gives a nod of his own in reply, smirking in obvious approval. He paces over to Cecil, grabbing hold of him and yanking him away from Carlos before the scientist can even try to stop it happening. And then, blade at Cecil's throat, Hikaru pushes him up to Hartley, holding him in place.

" _Cecil_ ," Hartley purrs, whilst putting out a hand to gesture Kevin in close again. "I did enjoy our little chat before. And I am _so_ looking forward to your long and _productive_ future at my side."

"I will never–" Cecil starts out, furiously, but Hartley holds up his free hand.

"I am talking," he says. "I suggest you don't interrupt."

" _I_ suggest you give up now," Cecil pushes. "Because I will _never_ give you what you want."

Hartley sighs. "You're so impertinent. I really will enjoy breaking it out of you…"

Cecil narrows his eyes. "You can _try_."

"Yes, I can," Hartley replies. "And I succeed at everything I try, in time. For now, though… I think you've had long enough to think about how you want this to go."

Carlos feels his stomach lurch in horror as he realises what's coming; the weight of the situation becoming near-crushing, and unable to fight the sense that non-existent time has just run out.

"We're going back to the amphitheatre," Hartley continues. "I will dictate the ritual for opening a planar gateway, and you're going to do it. You're going to open a gateway to your plane of existence. And if you refuse… the scientist dies."

" _No_ …" Cecil gasps.

" **Yes** ," Hartley retorts. "Oh, yes. This is it, Cecil. Time to decide what you can and can't live with."

He looks to his three allies, all of whom are watching with bright, matching smiles on their faces. "Bring them," he orders. "Aidan too. So begins the last hostile takeover."

And there's nothing any of them can do. The still-wounded Aidan is dragged from the stone circle by Nina, with Lilith seizing hold of Carlos whilst he's still standing frozen in horror and Hikaru keeping Cecil at knifepoint as they move.

"Fetch my daughter, would you?" Hartley says to Kevin. "This is a _family_ affair, after all. I'm sure Lauren won't want to miss it."

And Kevin smiles. "Anything for you, sir," he answers. "Anything for you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...OK, on second thoughts, _this_ is a much worse cliffhanger than the last one.
> 
> I. Uhm. Ooops?
> 
> *re-lurks quickly*
> 
> Coming Up Next In Chiralityverse: The scene to end all scenes. The chapter to end all chapters. Readers, one and all; as they say on the interwebs... _get hype!_ (Also, brace yourselves. Like, a lot.)


	11. Vittorioso

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE!
> 
> Did you really think I'd leave you all with that last cliffhanger? OK, yes, I did technically do that, but... look! I have the next chapter here for you already, just twenty-four hours later!
> 
> I wrote it all in that time, too. The whole thing. This is because the bulk of _this_ chapter has been burning away in my head for two years. Two _years_. So writing it required less in the way of effort and more in the way of sitting back and letting the words finally, finally flow free.
> 
> So here you have it: Welcome, my dear readers, to the last revolution...

**Vittorioso**

_Victoriously_

***

The amphitheatre at the centre of Derek Hartley's realm seems somehow more imposing when Carlos sees it again, beneath that turbulent, otherworldly red sky.

His mind is racing, refusing to settle on any one thought, lest it destroy him utterly with no hope of escape. Either Cecil lets the quartet of demons loose in Desert Bluffs and Night Vale again… or Carlos dies.

He doesn't want to think of anyone in either town having to face a single moment under the rule of these monsters. He doesn't want Strexcorp-that-was to rise again.

He doesn't want to die.

It's strange how the human mind blanks out in the face of abject terror, as if not processing it could somehow prevent the feared thing from coming to pass. Carlos thinks of other times he's been genuinely terrified: the day of the Battle of Night Vale, the night of the timeloop at the Bloodstone, but somehow the present moment feels infinitely worse. And dull, at the same time; too much to engage with.

 _He doesn't want to die_.

They stop inside the great, encircling amphitheatre: Hartley at the top of the raised dais, with Nina holding Aidan off to one side, and Lilith and Hikaru holding Carlos and Cecil off to the other side. The two men manage to exchange a horrified, desperate glance as they finally come to a halt, neither one knowing what to say.

"This day will be remembered for a thousand aeons," Hartley starts out, in the voice of a man standing on the brink of perfect victory. "So begins the second golden age of Strexcorp; the dawn of a day on which the sun will never set. Now… where is my darling girl?"

"Right here, Dad," comes Lauren's voice, as she approaches from the back of the amphitheatre. "Fashionably late, of course!"

"Of course," her father answers, with a fond expression in his eyes. "And where is my beloved fixer..?"

"I'm here, sir," Kevin says, pacing in from the far side. He looks up at Hartley, with a gracious nod. "May I?"

Hartley smiles, bright and pleased. "Absolutely, my boy. I want you by my side for this most monumental of events."

Kevin smiles too, glancing over at Cecil and Carlos for an instant before walking up to stand in front of Hartley; loyalty and light in every pace.

He pauses there, looking up at the slightly taller man, the picture of devotion.

And then there's a flash of red in his left hand, as something drops into view from where it's been hidden up his sleeve. Carlos has the barest fraction of a second to process that the object in question is that knife-like shard of the Bloodstone, and then Kevin steps up and stabs Derek Hartley squarely in the chest with it.

The whole of existence stops.

"That was for Desert Bluffs, _demon_ ," Kevin hisses, staring Hartley in the face, and the look of shock in the man's eyes is like nothing Carlos has ever seen.

Then Kevin gives the Bloodstone blade a sharp twist, pressing in even closer. "And that?" he adds, in the voice of one finally closing all the circles. " _That was for Callum_."

Kevin stares unblinking at his former employer for one last second, and then he yanks the Bloodstone shard back, and the demon in front of him drops to the floor all at once.

And there's no denying it this time. Not here. Not with that weapon.

Derek Hartley is dead.

There's a long moment of perfect silence, and then Kevin breaks the Bloodstone shard in two over his knee, dropping the pieces down on Hartley's body before bending to draw the fallen demon's knife from its sheath.

A knife that is also, Carlos somehow remembers through the soul-deep shock, extra-planar.

" **No!** " Nina howls, having finally found her voice.

" _Cecil, now!_ " Kevin shouts.

All hell – very literally – breaks loose. Nina flings the still-wounded Aidan to the ground, blade bared as she advances on Kevin, who paces slowly down the steps from the dais, Hartley's knife held in one hand, and drawing his own with the other.

At precisely the same moment, Lilith tries to kill Carlos. She doesn't get very far, however, because Cecil flings his arms out, and a shockwave of purple light blasts both Lilith and Hikaru away from them before either can do anything. The two demons hit the ground roughly, looking back at Cecil with rage in their eyes, and then turn their attention in Kevin's direction.

They still need Cecil alive, after all, and they've obviously decided that Carlos isn't a threat. But Kevin? Kevin is holding an extra-planar blade and pacing in their direction, perfect calm writ across his face.

He's never looked more beautiful, or more free.

"You're going to die for this," Nina growls at him. "You're going to die in _pain_ , your boyfriends are going to die in _pain_ , and then we will burn both your precious towns to the _ground_."

"No," Kevin answers, soft and sure. "We aren't. And you won't."

"Enough of this!" Hikaru yells. "Enforcers!"

And the three demons launch themselves at Kevin. Carlos gasps in horror as they do, but the man in question seems completely unfazed, turning to deflect blow after blow with breathless precision, two silver blades singing through the air.

Cecil hurtles over to Carlos and flings both arms around him, holding on tight. "I love you," he gasps, voice heavy with relief; like the day at the bowling alley, but magnified a hundredfold. "I love you."

"I love you too," Carlos chokes out, holding on just as tightly.

There's a renewed chorus of howls from outside the amphitheatre and, through the arches in the stone, Carlos can see a swarm of demon-enforcers charging towards them, blades bared.

Cecil doesn't even blink. He holds up a hand, and a burst of purple light races upwards and outwards, growing into a glittering, translucent dome that encompasses the whole amphitheatre and which – the enforcers quickly learn – can't be walked through, punched through, or stabbed.

And Carlos feels it again: that indescribable, undeniable sense of _destiny_ , chasing through the heavy, otherworldly air; as though the universe itself has been waiting for this moment for far too long.

Kevin, meanwhile, is fighting with a grace and certainty the likes of which is remarkable even for him, moving without fear, without hesitation, even in the face of three angry, armed demons. Hikaru is the first to go down, taking both blades to the chest with a sudden, sharp gasp. Kevin drops him to the ground, letting gravity do the bulk of freeing the knives and then turning immediately to deflect a well-timed blow from Nina.

"We won't let you do this," Lilith hisses. "We won't let you undo _decades_ of work."

"You can't stop me," Kevin tells her. "Not this time. I am the Voice of Desert Bluffs, and I have _spoken_."

As if on cue, outside the glowing energy shield, the angry swarm of enforcers suddenly turns, as a second wave of winged figures goes for them, howling as one, and a much larger battle suddenly erupts into being.

"About damn time," Aidan mutters, trying to stagger to his feet.

The shock is enough to throw Lilith off guard, and within a moment she too is down; Kevin yanking the borrowed blade from her body as it falls, before he advances on Nina, spinning both knives once as he does.

"You're a traitor," Nina hisses. "I don't know how you did it, but I _will_ make you pay."

"I already paid," Kevin replies. "In blood and sunlight, I paid. And now I can finally do what I was born to do."

Nina glares at him. Kevin smiles.

" _Fix things_."

There's one last roar, one last flurry of movement and metal… and then Nina Belmonte drops to the rocky ground, dead.

Silence falls. It is not even close to actual silence, given that there's a fairly sizeable battle going on beyond the energy shield protecting the whole area, but somehow that same shield makes all the other sound seem distant. Or perhaps that's just the shock.

Aidan Outteridge stares. From the back of the dais, Lauren Hartley-Mallard stares.

And, surrounded by the bodies of the fallen Strexcorp Management Board, streaked with blood, Kevin turns to meet eyes with his boyfriends. He slips his own knife back into its sheath, and lets the borrowed blade drop to the ground with a metallic clatter, taking a few paces towards them and then stopping, as if he doesn't dare move any closer.

"… _How?_ " Cecil gasps. "How did you break free?"

"I didn't," Kevin whispers. "I was lucid the entire time."

It's like being hit in the chest by the full force of the universe. Carlos can't even speak.

"But… the soul-bind…" Cecil manages.

"The soul-bind," Kevin repeats, softly. "The soul-bind I wasn't supposed to remember. The soul-bind I found out about, the day I ended my company bind with Azatothoth the Bloodthirsty and established a private one instead. The one he detected when he was carrying out the standard background check. The one I broke by performing a very complex ritual, in the basement of the house that doesn't exist… right before the two of you showed up. That one. It was long gone. But I knew Hartley would invoke it. The moment I saw him alive, I knew. So… I played along. I made him believe it had worked. I told you from the start: I'm a very good liar. And if there had been any way to warn you, to reassure you… any way at all… I would have done it. But I couldn't take the risk. I only had one chance to get close to him, with a weapon that could kill him. I had to make it work. _I had to_."

He falls down onto one knee, head bowed. "Forgive me," he whispers.

There's a long moment where no one moves. No one breathes. And then Cecil paces straight over to Kevin, yanking him to his feet. The double on the ground gives a soft sound of alarm at the action, right before Cecil wraps him into the fiercest, tightest hug he can manage.

Kevin gasps, soul-deep, like a drowning man finally breaking the surface of cold, dark water, and wraps his own arms around Cecil, and holds on.

And Carlos, feeling relief hit him like a tidal wave, races over to the pair of them and throws his arms around them both, and holds on too.

And there they stand, the Greater Metropolitan Area's favourite triad: alive, united, victorious, clinging onto each other in a surge of emotion beyond what words could ever express.

It's a long time before any of them moves. When they finally do, they pull back from the embrace but no one lets go, hands still on each other. Carlos looks up to see a tear slide down Kevin's cheek… and then he gasps in fresh shock.

"Kevin," he breathes. "Your _eyes_."

Instinct makes Kevin raise a hand to his face. "What about them?" he asks, sounding alarmed again.

"They're _blue_."

And they are. The perpetual obsidian-black is gone, to be replaced with a deep, wonderful blue, like a late-afternoon summer sky.

Kevin gasps. "They're… I… They're like Cecil's?"

Cecil nods, and he's smiling, hands lifted to his double's face, brushing the tears aside. "Yes," he breathes. "Just like mine."

Kevin chokes back a little sob, but he's smiling too. He loses it after a moment, pulling the other two in again and holding on tight.

"You're OK," Cecil whispers. "We're OK."

And they are. Carlos is still in shock at the realisation, but… they are.

They're all OK.

"I'm so sorry," Kevin gasps. "I'm so sorry for what I put you through. I–"

"Don't be," Cecil insists. "I think you just saved our lives again."

Kevin curls in tighter. "I'm still repaying you for saving mine."

At this point, from somewhere beyond the energy shield and the amphitheatre, there's a blast of light and a roar, and several of the demon-enforcers go flying into the air. And not, it is clear, because they have just taken off.

On the contrary. They've been blown up. And, following a second blast, more of their brethren follow.

And, between the unknown newcomer and the wave of what Carlos knows must be Aidan Outteridge's people, the enforcers still loyal to the fallen Management Board start to scatter.

The three men pull back from their embrace in time to see the newcomer in question finally reach the edge of the amphitheatre, at which point it becomes clear that it's newcomer _s_ , plural. Familiar ones.

"We're here to save you!" Steve Carlsberg declares.

"…Masters of us all," Cecil breathes, although – Carlos notices – not in annoyance.

They can now see that there are several newcomers: Steve Carlsberg front and centre, with Frederick at his side, Naomi and Darla at their backs, and Azatothoth the Bloodthirsty at _their_ backs (which, of course, explains all the roaring before. Hopefully). Naomi has that strange, demonic cat-gremlin on her shoulder – Ozhen'ipleth – and Frederick…

"…Frederick, is that the death ray?!" Carlos exclaims.

"Sure is!" Frederick answers, brightly. "The death ray mark two, to be precise! And it's _awesome_!"

"Azzie?" Kevin says, looking a little stunned. "You're… here?"

"Had to come save your mortal life, didn't I?" his demon replies, trying to do a good impression of sounding sullen and unimpressed and not – in fact – more than slightly relieved.

"Are you going to let us in?" Naomi asks, with a smile.

"Oh, yes, right," Cecil says, a flicker of guilt in his eyes. With the last of the hostile enforcers having fled, it's safe for him to hold up his hand again, and the energy shield fades slowly from view.

As soon as it does, everyone paces in – with the exception of Steve, who immediately comes charging across the rocky ground, flinging his arms around Cecil. And _he_ doesn't resist the hug even a little.

"Thank goodness you're all right," Steve says. "We've been so worried."

"How did you even get here?" Carlos starts out, but before Steve can answer, everything goes very quiet.

Naomi is standing a little way off, staring in shock at what is clearly her father's body. "Is that..?" she starts out. "I… _how_?!"

"Turns out Mom was even more powerful than we thought," Lauren answers, carefully; stepping into view from where she's been lurking, but very much keeping her distance. "The binding magic she used to make Dad and the others human… it had a failsafe built in."

"…Death as humans brought them back here," Naomi breathes, understanding. "He was still alive? They were all still alive?!"

"They were," Aidan says, and Naomi takes a marked step back at the sight of him, before processing that no one else is alarmed by the man.

Naomi stares at Aidan, then at her sister. "What in the name of all nine Infernal Planes is going on here?"

"Answer my wife's question," Darla pushes, stepping up beside Naomi and putting a defensive arm around her, whilst glowering at Lauren.

"I'm… probably in the best position to do that," Kevin cuts in, softly. "Just… just let me explain, OK?"

Both women turn to look at him, their expressions mellowing a little at his words. "Are you all right?" Naomi asks, and it's clear answering that question is as important as the rest.

"Yes," Kevin replies. "And no. And… I will be. Your father was still alive. The Belmonte twins had been told by your mother before her death… not everything, I don't think. I don't think they knew he wasn't dead. But they knew that, if anything happened to him, they had to find the planar orb and use it to send his killer here. So they did. The whole thing was a trap. When the three of us got to the second Bloodstone… they broke the orb and opened a portal. And when we arrived here on this plane… we found out the truth."

Horror fills Naomi's expression as she clearly processes the consequences of this.

"Your father was still alive," Kevin says, again. "He was preparing to re-take Desert Bluffs, and Night Vale too. He wanted Cecil to open a gateway back to our plane. And… he and I were soul-bound."

"Wait, what?" Naomi exclaims.

"Or… we _had_ been," Kevin goes on. "It happened years ago. I found out about it during the revolution in Night Vale. Azzie discovered it when he checked me over before I established my non-Strex bind with him. I was horrified. I had to invoke one of the Administrators from the Fourth, to get the bind broken. It was not easy. But, it was gone… and then, days later, it seemed that Mr Hartley was dead… so I tried to think no more of it. Until the three of us ended up here… and I knew what he would do."

The horror on Naomi's face magnifies a hundredfold. "You pretended it had worked, didn't you?" she breathes.

Kevin nods. "I did. I pretended he'd won. I pretended I was his. But he hadn't. _I wasn't_. And… then I finally managed to steal the shard of Bloodstone that Lauren was oh-so-attached to–"

"I didn't exactly make it difficult for you," Lauren herself cuts in. "I… had the sense you might try it. I know you better than you think."

"Evidently," Kevin concedes, still watching her warily. "And, once I had the Bloodstone shard… I killed him with it. Then I took his knife and killed the other three."

It's so matter-of-fact. So clinical. And yet, the emotion bubbling just beneath the surface is impossible to miss.

"And… Aidan?" Naomi pushes, glancing over at the man in question.

"Your father tried to kill me during the Battle of Night Vale," Aidan says. "Because I turned on him. Because… because of what he did to my son. Technically, Derek _did_ kill me, which meant I also woke up here. Things between us have been… fraught ever since. And when I realised these three had turned up; that Derek might have someone who could open a planar gateway for him… I had to act. I tried to help. In truth, it didn't go so well. Good thing Kevin wasn't actually under Derek's control or… things could have ended very differently."

Naomi listens to all of this, then looks to Cecil, Carlos and Kevin. "Is his story true?" she asks.

Cecil nods. "Yes. Yes, it is."

The words seem enough for Naomi, and she nods. "All right. And… Lauren?"

Her attention goes back to her sister, who looks a mixture of defiant and deeply concerned. "I wasn't involved in this," Lauren insists. "I didn't even like Dad's plan. I wanted to stay here."

"Here?" Naomi repeats. "Seriously?"

"Seriously!" Lauren answers. "I mean, look at it! I love the place. Much nicer than anywhere in the human world. No nasty trees or plants or _nature_ anywhere to be found. And I have a castle! Also, now that Dad is actually dead, technically all of this is _my_ realm."

"Hold on, wait, what?" Naomi pushes, incredulous.

"It's true!" Lauren says. "Dad had the whole thing checked out. Apparently, according to the laws of the First Infernal Plane, full inheritance rules apply so long as the beneficiary is at least one-half demon. Like me! Like you, too, but, you know, I'm the eldest. So, according to the law, I am now a High Countess of the First Infernal Plane! Isn't that just so cool?"

Naomi actually facepalms. "You do remember the part where you tried to kill us all, right?"

"How could I forget?" Lauren answers. "But being here, on the First… I don't know, I guess my priorities have changed."

"So you want us to… what, exactly?" Darla pushes. "Just leave you be?"

Lauren nods. "That'd be just swell. I get to rule Dad's empire here on the First, and you all get to live in Desert Bluffs or Night Vale surrounded by all that sand. And nature. And birds and things…"

She shudders.

"I guess the alternative is a fight to the death," Naomi says. "And it looks like there's been enough of those already."

"So… I can stay here?"

Naomi sighs. "Aidan, will you promise to keep an eye on her for me?"

"Absolutely," Aidan answers.

"No more invading places?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die!" Lauren insists.

"Fine," Naomi says, a little heavily. "Fine, then."

She turns back to Kevin and the others, and that's when she stops, suddenly; her mind finally processing that something is different.

"Wait a second," she says. "Kevin… your eyes…"

"I know!" he exclaims, still sounding delighted by the thought. "I think… I think now your father is dead, we're all finally free. So everyone from Desert Bluffs… oh, Darla, yours have changed too!"

And he's right. Naomi immediately turns to look at her wife, and gasps. "By Ozhen'ipleth," she breathes. "Darla… your eyes are green!"

"They are?" Darla says, seeming a little taken aback. "Are they… you know, do they look good?"

Naomi takes her hands. "Of course they do, love. They look perfect."

Darla actually blushes, just slightly. Not that anyone would dare call her on it.

"Everyone back home is going to get a shock when they realise what's happened," Naomi says. "It's kind of apt, with Liberation Day coming up…"

"Isn't it just?" Darla agrees.

"I should go deal with the aftermath of this mess," Aidan cuts in, levelly. "Derek's people will need a certain amount of placating to keep them in check. So I must be going, but I'll be around to keep an eye on the new High Countess."

He turns, pacing towards the edge of the amphitheatre, but pauses as he reaches the ring of stone. "Oh, and Kevin?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. You know, for what you said. For what you did. For… Callum. Thank you."

Kevin nods. "You're welcome."

And, with one last look back, Aidan Outteridge steps out of the amphitheatre, and out of sight.

"What happened to Night Vale?" Cecil now asks, hesitant and urgent at the same time. "Did you..?"

"We destroyed the second Bloodstone," Steve tells him, with a smile. "Well, it was mostly Frederick and Naomi, but it sure was effective. Those crazy twins did their best to stop us, though."

"Are they still..?" Kevin starts out, but Naomi shakes her head.

"No," she answers. "Zara and Tamsen Belmonte are dead. They went up against me and Heni," and here she nods to the creature still curled on her shoulder, tail swishing down her back. "It didn't end well for them."

"What about Andrew?" Kevin pushes.

Naomi's expression darkens. "Andrew Fletcher is currently locked in the deepest, darkest prison Desert Bluffs still has. Where he will stay. _Indefinitely_."

"But… Night Vale is safe?" Cecil says.

"Yes," Naomi answers. "Night Vale is safe. Desert Bluffs is safe."

"And… the people?"

Naomi smiles. "All fine. Once the Bloodstone was destroyed, we managed to get the comm jamming field down and raise them on Mayor Cardinal's cellphone. And then I sent Vanessa over to join up with them, and tell them more about what had happened, and–"

"Vanessa's OK?" Kevin cuts in, voice shaky. "She's… she's really OK?"

"More than OK," Darla answers, with an oddly fond little smile. "She's the one who told us what had happened to the three of you. And she helped us take out the Bloodstone. Talented intern you've got there!"

Kevin looks like he might break down again, and Carlos puts an arm around him.

"All right, so the Bloodstone is gone and the towns are saved," Cecil says. "But how did you get _here?_ "

Darla grins. "That's where the big guy comes in."

"Azzie?" Kevin says, looking over at his demon, who is lurking at the edge of the conversation, still trying to pretend to be unaffected.

"It was Ms Naomi's idea," Azatothoth insists. " _She_ summoned me – unbound, of course, which is normally a _very_ bad idea, but…"

He gives a waving-gesture in Naomi's direction, and the woman in question merely smiles.

"…you know, not in this case," the demon finishes, carefully. "She said you were in trouble and asked me to help. And I didn't _have_ to because I only have to if _you_ say so, but… but I still did. So Ms Naomi and Ms Darla and Steve all performed a ritual to open a gateway to the Fourth Infernal Plane."

"It was _really_ difficult," Darla says. "Took all three of us."

"You… Steve, you…?" Cecil tries, clearly stunned.

"Yep!" Steve answers, beaming more than a little. "I may not be able to do your whole thing, but apparently I'm not half-bad at this stuff. Naomi says it's the demon-blood in me. I just hope the government don't find out… But, you know. It worked. We made it to the Fourth."

"…The Fourth Infernal Plane is _drenched_ in blood," Kevin points out. "I mean… _way_ more than Desert Bluffs ever was."

"Very true," Naomi says, with what might even be a somewhat alarmed expression. "And the occupants don't particularly like receiving guests. Luckily, Azatothoth was… persuasive. And we've been making our way here ever since."

"Making your way..?" Kevin starts, and then understanding dawns in his eyes. "Did you use the planar bridges?!"

"Back up a second," Cecil interjects. "What is a planar bridge?"

"It's the connection between one Infernal Plane and the next," Naomi explains. "Most planes are separate, but some groupings – like the Infernal Planes – are interconnected, or stacked. In this case, you can move up or down the chain by travelling over a planar bridge. They're heavily guarded and restricted, though, so it took quite a lot of arguing and more than a little violence to get here. Azatothoth helped us get from the Fourth to the Third, and then Frederick scared the guards on the Third with his death ray," and Frederick beams at this, looking delighted.

"And once we got to the Second, I managed to track down Ozhen'ipleth," Naomi adds. "She got us over onto the First, no problem."

Ozhen'ipleth gives a proud little growl and flicks her ears at them.

"So… we're here to rescue you," Azatothoth concludes. "And to not think about the amount of paperwork I'll have to do to explain all of this when I get home…"

"I'm just glad you're all OK," Kevin says. "Getting here can't have been easy."

"It wasn't," Naomi replies. "But none of us had any intention of abandoning you. And now I know what was happening here…"

She looks over at the bodies again, and shivers. "…If I'd known my father was still alive, I…"

"It's all right," Kevin insists. "No one knew. And it's over now."

His words hide so very much. Carlos tightens his arm around Kevin, and Cecil pulls him in again, and they both hold on.

"How do we get home?" Cecil asks. "I still don't actually _know_ how to open a planar gateway, but if one of you can tell me… I'll do it."

"You don't have to do it on your own," Naomi points out. "I mean, given how powerful you are, you _can_ , but… we can help you, if you want us to."

"You'd do that?" Cecil says.

Naomi smiles. "What are friends for?"

Cecil smiles as well. "I think we're pretty much family now," he points out, and even Naomi seems touched by this.

"Can I help too?" Steve asks, sounding excited by the prospect.

"Yes, Steve, you can help too," Cecil answers. "You, and Naomi and Darla and… Kevin?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Kevin replies.

"Then it's settled," Naomi says. "All five of us will… OK, wow, that's a little apt…"

There's an odd silence.

"Not everything has to be symbolic, you know!" Lauren points out, still watching from a safe distance.

But that doesn't mean it isn't.

"Oh, shush," Naomi insists, though without any force. "You should just be glad I'm not deposing you and taking Dad's empire for myself. I am _your_ heir, after all."

"I'd really rather you didn't," Lauren answers. "Plus, you got Desert Bluffs. And whatever is left of Strexcorp after those _angels_ were done with it. So…"

"…So I meant what I said before," Naomi replies. "You can keep this place, so long as you stop invading people. No more hostile takeovers."

"Awwww, you're going to miss me really," Lauren says, tone taking on that sickly-sweet edge again.

"No, Lauren, I am not," her sister retorts.

This is probably true. Nevertheless… both letting the other live somehow says a lot.

"Let me explain how this ritual works," Naomi starts out, deliberately changing the subject.

As she does, Carlos risks letting go of Kevin – given that Cecil still has an arm around him – and steps carefully over to where Frederick is standing, staring around at everything and looking positively delighted.

"This place is _cool_ ," the other scientist enthuses. "And I can hear the distant song of bloodstone, but… in _chorus_. I bet we could spend _weeks_ studying the place."

"Probably," Carlos concedes. "But I'm not staying here a moment longer than I have to. And… do me a favour and don't mention the bloodstone song to Cecil. Or Kevin."

Frederick nods in understanding. "All right," he promises. "Do you like my new death ray?"

Carlos sighs. "Frederick, we have discussed your death ray before. I don't approve of death rays!"

"But look how cool it is!" Frederick pushes, hefting the rather large weapon against his hip. "I could have a promising career as a super-villain!"

"No, Frederick," Carlos says, in scientist-wrangling voice. "No."

"Awwww."

A beat.

"What about a minor side-villain?"

" _No_ , Frederick!"

"…Oh, fine!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *exhales*
> 
> *cautiously checks for death threats*
> 
> I hope with all my heart that you enjoyed that. I know I did!
> 
> But this is most assuredly not the end. I have plenty of aftermath to deal with, and then I plan to send this main series off in style!
> 
> ...And why yes, I did say 'main series'. Because I have plans for what comes after. Lots of plans! I have a feeling some of you will approve... ;-)
> 
> Coming Up Next In Chiralityverse: There's no place like home...


	12. Dal Segno

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I'm back!!
> 
> First off, my apologies for the delay. As usual, this took a little longer than intended! However, I return, and I return with everything. The last three chapters, plus one final coda. I wanted to do this right: to end both this part, and this whole series, as well as I possibly could.
> 
> And I've got a lot to wrap up! Chapters Twelve and Thirteen are the conclusion of this part, whilst Chapter Fourteen and the coda (technically Chapter Fifteen, though a short chapter) mark the conclusion of the full series. And, given that I have two finales to do, I wanted you to have the chance to read it all at once.
> 
> Incidentally, dear reader, when I say 'two finales', that means what you think it means... ;-)
> 
> And as to what comes _after_... well, stay tuned! I'll have more on that at the end. For now, let me return you to the First Infernal Plane, and to the aftermath of a hard-earned victory...

**Dal Segno**

_From The Sign_

***

It's something of a relief when Cecil announces that he's ready to try the planar gateway ritual. His involvement is crucial, after all – the others between them won't have sufficient planar power to do it. And, given that one of those people is _Naomi_ , it says a lot about what Cecil is really capable of.

Carlos still can't help finding it more than a little hot. Even if it is all scientifically impossible. And somewhat terrifying.

Naomi starts drawing out an extraordinarily complex infinity-circle on the rough ground – she too, it seems, carries charcoal 'just in case' – whilst the others stand back. Lauren is still here as well; watching them from the top of the dais where she's seated herself on the top step, keeping her distance but not looking as though she plans to do anything to interfere.

As Naomi is working, Ozhen'ipleth hops lightly down from her shoulder and paces calmly over to Azatothoth, starting to bat at his feet. And there's something weirdly funny about watching an eight-foot demon trying to pretend not to mind something like that, on the grounds that the very much smaller demon could probably blip him out of existence if she wanted.

"I still can't believe you came after me, Azzie," Kevin says, with an oddly fond look in his eyes. "I mean… we've always worked well together, but…"

"Had to be done," Azatothoth cuts in, attempting to sound gruff and aloof and not quite pulling it off. "Good for inter-planar relations."

Kevin pats him on the arm. "It's OK. You don't have to admit it's because you like me really. I already know."

Azatothoth sighs, and is clearly about to say something else when Ozhen'ipleth bats at him again, and he stops dead. "…Dread Father…" he mutters, instead, going visibly tense.

"Hold on," Cecil now says, looking from Kevin and Azatothoth and then over to Steve. "Where's Bharaeiogh? Didn't you bring him too?"

"I left Bharaeiogh back in Night Vale," Steve explains. "I wanted someone I trust keeping an eye on the people I care about. Someone who could defend them in case the Belmonte twins had some kind of contingency plan in place."

"That's… actually really good thinking," Cecil has to admit. "Although… is it wise to leave that demon of yours unsupervised?"

"He isn't unsupervised," Steve replies. "He's with Janice."

There's a moment where Cecil, Carlos and Kevin all exchange a slightly alarmed look, before remembering – more or less in unison – that Janice is easily the most competent choice.

"…Fair point," Kevin says, when Cecil won't quite concede it out loud.

"He wasn't pleased about being left behind," Azatothoth rumbles. "Steve had to do this whole speech about the importance of family and relying on the ones you trust. It was…" He shudders. "… _Heartwarming_."

"Imagine my surprise," Cecil says, dryly.

At this point, perhaps mercifully, Naomi rises back to her feet. "There," she says. "That should do it. I've studied this ritual at length, but I've never tried it. Still, with Cecil leading the incantation, it ought to go off without a hitch."

"I've tried it," Lauren chips in, with what is probably supposed to sound like a helpful air.

Her sister glowers over at her. "You did it with three full-blood demons helping you. And you still only had enough power to pull it off because you'd gotten yourself soul-bound to the Smiling God."

Lauren narrows her eyes. "Well… OK, _yes_ , but… still."

"How's the whole soul-bind thing working out for you, anyway?" Darla now asks, brightly.

Lauren sticks her nose in the air. "Dad made me get it broken. He said soul-binds with gods are right out. _I_ said he was just jealous because _he'd_ never thought to try it."

"You seem worryingly calm about him being dead," Cecil points out.

Lauren shrugs. "I'm not claiming to be happy about it. I mean… he was my father. My mentor. My idol. I didn't want him to die. But… he'd gone too far. He was a High Count of the First Infernal Plane, and yet he wanted to return to that dusty little backwater you're all so inexplicably fond of? Sometimes people just cross the line, you know?"

"…I'm not sure if that's unusually deep or unbearably shallow," Naomi manages. "Maybe both." She sighs. "So I don't have to worry about you rallying an army and coming after us?"

"Nope," Lauren replies. "So long as I get to stay here and run Dad's empire… wait, _my_ empire… in peace and quiet, then you and your little friends are welcome to Desert Bluffs. And Night Vale. And that weird one way off to the east, with all the ghosts… That too."

Naomi sighs again, but seems to accept this as the best she's going to get. Which, considering everything, is a lot better than it could have been.

"So… this ritual?" Cecil interjects, carefully.

"Yes," Naomi says, seeming glad of the distraction. "Right. The planar gateway."

Cecil nods. "You still need to tell me the actual incantation. I'm guessing it's long and terribly complicated and in a language I can't pronounce properly? You might have to write it down…"

"Actually, this one's pretty simple in terms of wording," Naomi replies. "The tricky part is having the level of power needed to pull it off. The chant is mostly window-dressing, and the wording varies depending on where you are, and where you're trying to get. Plus, given that you're not invoking an actual being, you can do it in whatever language you like."

Cecil seems a little taken aback. "I can?"

Naomi nods. "Sure you can."

"That means I'm going to know what you're actually saying for once," Carlos remarks.

"Yep," Kevin agrees. "Try not to be too disappointed when you realise that, under all those lovely ancient and/or extra-planar languages, most of what we're saying is usually slightly ropey poetry."

Darla can't help a laugh at this. "Oh, that's so true. I have this one incantation I use for my necromancy rituals, and in Ancient Egyptian it sounds like this absolutely terrifying string of curses, but if you say it in English it's basically 'in the name of the gods, arise and run around making scary noises'."

"I worry about you sometimes," Kevin tells her.

And Darla pats him on the arm. "Good!" she replies, with a wicked little smile.

"It really is a wonder to me that you people ever get anything done," Lauren remarks, brightly.

"Quiet, you!" Darla calls back, which makes Lauren glower at her.

"Shall we?" Naomi cuts in, pointedly.

"That might be for the best," Cecil agrees. "Do you have anything to write this incantation down on?"

"Already done," Naomi replies. "I had to work out suitable wording, so Steve let me borrow his notebook en route."

"I… see," Cecil says, managing not to launch into his usual 'but writing utensils are _illegal!_ ' speech. "So… we have the incantation, and you explained how I channel the planar energy, but how exactly does the whole you-all-helping-me part work?"

"The five of us – you and Kevin, me and Darla, and Steve – all stand on the infinity circle," Naomi starts out. "Then… OK, this one is a little weird, but we all grip hands in a kind of criss-crossing pattern. Looks odd from our point of view, but – if you were to see it from above – our arms draw out a rough pentagram, with you at the top point of the star. It's the best way to channel a high amount of planar energy in a ritual like this. Then you just chant the invocation I've worked out and – all being well – it should rip open a planar gateway close by. Opposite you, in fact, because you're the focal point."

"And it's… you know, safe?"

Naomi smiles. "As safe as these things ever are, Cecil."

"And… the rest of us?" Carlos asks, carefully.

"Just stand back," Naomi answers. "Once the gateway is open, we can go through it one at a time."

Carlos still can't help feeling nervous about the whole process and – judging by his expression – neither can Cecil. But this is their only way home so, one by one, the five of them step up to the infinity circle and – with a little direction from Naomi to get the tessellation right – they grip hands in such a way that it _does_ form a slightly uneven pentagram from above.

Five of them. Five of them, united in strangely unfathomable power.

Maybe it does have to be symbolic.

Carlos and Frederick step off to the side, with Azatothoth lurking close by and – Carlos notices – seemingly poised to defend them if something goes wrong. Ozhen'ipleth, meanwhile, positions herself on a rock and watches with an almost lazy air to her movements; Lauren still doing much the same from a safe distance away.

"All right, Cecil," Naomi says. "Go ahead."

Cecil nods and – at once – the air goes electric, as if the mere act of concentrating has filled the whole space with some unseen power. And then, taking a deep breath, he starts to call out the chant written in Steve's notebook.

_"Fabric of the universe, hear my cry_  
_The hour has come, the time is nigh_  
_And at the bidding of my word_  
_See it done, let me be heard_  
_So by the red sky rent with thunder_  
_Let the planes themselves be torn asunder_  
_And form a gate here, without fail_  
_To bear us back to our Night Vale."_

Carlos has only a moment to think that, yes, this kind of thing _is_ cooler in an ancient and/or extra-planar language, and then the already-electric air fills with static. Everything seems to freeze in place for a second that lasts an age, and then there's a dazzling flash of purple-white light, which chases along the lines of the infinity-circle, and along the arms of the five invokers. It flickers again and again, like flashfire, and then there's a second, even brighter burst of light, and reality itself seems to tear, a short way ahead of the circle. It's too bright to focus on at first, but then Carlos can see that it's a column of light and energy, swirling and rippling and slightly angry-looking.

It rumbles, too: a deep and pervasive sound that drowns out the distant chorus of the bloodstones, and that is a strange relief, even if the rumbling in question isn't exactly pleasant.

" _Whoa_ ," Cecil breathes, staggering a little. "That's…"

"…utterly incredible," Kevin manages, arm around him to keep him upright. "I mean, even knowing what you can do… it's… _wow_."

"Isn't it just?" Naomi agrees, with a pleased little smile.

"Carlos, look at that!" Frederick exclaims, in delight. "An honest-to-Planck dimensional rift! Do you know how many laws of physics it defies?"

"…All of them?" Carlos murmurs.

"We should move quickly," Azatothoth rumbles. "It is unwise to leave planar gates open for longer than necessary."

"Because of the paperwork?" Steve asks.

"Because of the irreversible damage to the fabric of existence," Azatothoth replies. And then, with a shrug, he adds, "although you're not wrong about the paperwork."

"So… who wants to go first?" Cecil says.

"Oh, oh, me!" Frederick exclaims. He steps over to the gateway, but Azatothoth puts a hand on his chest.

"Me first, mortal," the demon rumbles. "In case there's anything on the other side that needs killing."

"But I have a death ray!" Frederick insists.

"Which is why I'm going first," Azatothoth replies, pointedly.

"I knew I liked you," Carlos murmurs, when he's sure the demon won't notice.

So Azatothoth steps up to the portal. "Five planes in a single day," he remarks, as if to himself. "My parents will never believe it…"

And, in a couple of paces, he walks through the gateway, vanishing in a ripple of purple light.

"Me next!" Frederick insists.

Carlos decides it would be best not to object, and lets the other scientist step up, following the demon through. "Someone should keep an eye on him," he mutters, but then he notices Kevin is deliberately holding back, and hesitates too.

Catching the reaction, Steve nods. "I'm on it, Carlos," he says, and steps up to the portal. "See you on the other side!"

And, in another ripple of light, he too is gone.

Ozhen'ipleth now hops up onto Darla's shoulder. "Oh, are you coming with me, you cutie?" Darla says, petting the demon on the head in a way very few beings could ever get away with if they wanted to keep their arms.

Then Darla glances back at Lauren. "Bye-bye, you. It's been… you know, something."

"Likewise!" Lauren answers, chipper.

And, giving Naomi a grin, Darla disappears through the portal with Ozhen'ipleth still on her shoulder.

"You going to give me another speech before you go?" Lauren now asks her sister.

"No," Naomi answers. "Just… you know." She seems oddly lost for words.

"Yeah," Lauren answers. "I know."

And – perhaps before her pesky human emotions can get in the way – Naomi too heads off through the portal.

"Well," Kevin says, an odd weight to his tone. "I guess this is it."

"You… want to stay?" Cecil asks, with a flicker of alarm.

"Merciless Azatothoth, no," Kevin answers at once. "It's just… I can't quite believe it's over."

Cecil takes his hands. "It is. And you won. And… now you get to go home."

" _We_ won," Kevin says, softly. "I…"

"It's all right," Carlos interjects, just as softly, and sure he knows what the look in the other man's now-blue eyes means. "The rest can wait. For now… we go back."

Kevin seems to consider this for a moment, and then he nods. "Yes," he agrees. "Yes." And he keeps hold of one of Cecil's hands, taking one of Carlos' with the other. "Together?"

Cecil and Carlos both smile. "Together," they say, in unison.

"You three really are _too_ cute," Lauren cuts in, tone sickly-sweet.

"…Goodbye, Lauren," Kevin manages. "Enjoy the First Infernal Plane."

"I will!" she replies. "Oh… I _will_. Until next time!"

And, before this can get any worse, Kevin leads the way through the portal, still hand in hand with the other two. There's a moment between stepping into that wall of rippling purple light, but before stepping out of it, when Carlos feels as though all of reality is pressing into them, cold and clear and infinite… and then they pace forwards, and normalcy reasserts.

 _Night Vale_ reasserts.

Carlos blinks. They're home. They're home, and the song of the bloodstones is finally gone.

It's over.

And it's night. The air is heavy and warm; the sky overhead dark and cloudy. And it's raining: not the terrifying bloodrain of before, but true, natural rain, streaking over buildings and brickwork, washing away the hell of days past.

The others are here, waiting for them, and once they're through, Naomi gestures to the portal. "You should close that," she says. "Planar gateways aren't exactly something that should be left lying around."

Recent experience has proven how right this is. Cecil nods, and turns to the portal… and then hesitates. "All three of us," he murmurs.

"All three?" Carlos starts out, and then he pauses, understanding. Suddenly smiling.

" _Three still key forever more_ ," Kevin whispers, and they each lift a hand, touching it to the rippling portal of light.

And, OK, yes, it's no doubt Cecil's power that does the work. But the symbolism still seems important. The portal flickers, spiralling around that planar rip, and then – in a flash – it's gone.

"There they are!" a voice shouts from a little way off.

With the portal gone, they can now see the towering, obsidian walls of the Dog Park up ahead, and – as they turn – behind them lies the square where the Battle of Night Vale took place, and where the second Bloodstone stood. It's gone, now, though work is clearly still in progress to remove the cascade of much smaller shards scattered all over the square.

Four of the five monoliths that had been erected around the Bloodstone lie shattered, too; no doubt damaged in the explosion that took out the Bloodstone itself. Only one of the monoliths remains: the furthest to the right, on which the words ' _the sun will rise again_ ' are written.

Apt enough, Carlos thinks.

But they don't have long to muse on the sight, because three figures come hurtling over, none of them seeming bothered by the rain, as they hurry up to where the newcomers are standing. Caitlin and Janice are in the lead, and they both fling their arms around Steve at once.

"Mortals!" Bharaeiogh roars, from close behind (albeit, mercifully, without any hugging). "You live!"

"We live!" Steve replies, as his wife and stepdaughter finally let go of him and move to hug Cecil next.

"You're alive," Caitlin gasps, looking utterly relieved. "You're all alive."

"We are," Cecil says, hugging her back. "We're all OK."

"We should tell the mayor," Janice points out, excitedly. "And her double!"

"Vanessa," Kevin says, suddenly. "She's…"

"I'm right here," comes a voice from the side.

Even when you're more than used to a world filled with doubles, it is still a little uncanny how similar they can be, and Carlos can't help a slight jump of surprise as Vanessa herself paces closer. She really is identical to Dana Cardinal, right down – now that Derek Hartley is dead – to those striking brown eyes.

"Come here, you," Kevin breathes, and – perhaps before he can lose his nerve – he goes over and wraps the shorter woman into a hug. "I'm so sorry," he whispers. "If I'd known… if there was any way…"

"It's all right," Vanessa tells him. "It's all right."

"They're over here!" comes another shout, from a little way off.

More people hurry over to them: Dana Cardinal and Sheriff Sam, with Old Woman Josie a little slower – but no less determined – behind. Josie has several tall, winged figures with her; resplendent in black light, and seemingly impervious to the rain.

"You made it!" Dana exclaims, throwing mayoral-ness to the wind and immediately giving Cecil a hug of her own. "We were worried."

"The feeling is mutual, believe me," Cecil tells her. "Is… is Night Vale..?"

"Everyone is fine," Dana confirms, stepping back with a smile. "Once the second Bloodstone was taken out, the people all returned to normal. Or… normal for them, at least. The rain started not long after Naomi's group opened that portal so they could go after you. It's certainly helping with the blood."

Sheriff Sam – umbrella up, and seeming more than a little smug about it – nods. "My people are sweeping the city for interlopers, but so far there's no sign of anyone. Order is quickly being restored."

For once, this is a good thing.

"You all made it back," Josie says, with a smile. "I'm not surprised, but I am pleased. We knew you could do it, of course."

"You always do," adds one of the tall, winged figures (which makes Cecil give a little murmur of alarm and step back). "It's very helpful."

"Even if sometimes you need the odd deus-ex-machina," another of the angels says.

"More like demon-ex-machina!" Bharaeiogh rumbles, nudging Azatothoth as he does. The taller demon rolls his eyes, but laughs nonetheless.

"What happened to you all over there?" Dana now asks. "Vanessa told us you were pulled through a portal created by that planar orb."

"We were," Cecil answers. He meets Kevin's eyes before he says any more, though, and waits for his double to nod before continuing. "It took us to the First Infernal Plane, where we discovered that the old Strexcorp Management Board were still alive."

There are looks of alarm from Dana, Caitlin and Janice, with even Old Woman Josie seeming concerned. And Vanessa looks flatly _horrified_.

"All of them?" Josie says. "Even…" Her eyes flick first to Kevin, and then to Naomi. "…Derek Hartley himself?"

Cecil nods. "Yes. Although one of them – Aidan Outteridge – had turned on the others, and he helped us. To cut a long story short… eventually Kevin was able to take them down."

It's perhaps a mercy that he's sparing everyone the details. And there's no hiding how pale Kevin has gone at the words.

"So… they're dead?" Josie pushes. "For good this time?"

"Yes," Cecil answers. "With the exception of Aidan, who I'm confident is on our side now… more or less… the Strexcorp Management Board is dead."

Vanessa tightens her arms around Kevin at that, and Carlos can't help thinking that the young woman also knows more than most.

"So… it's over?" Janice asks.

"I think so," Naomi replies. "As much as you can ever be sure round here."

There's an odd pause at that, as they all stand in the rain, beneath the dark sky, letting the feeling sink in.

"I think… I'd like to go home now," Kevin says, finally.

"You should," Dana agrees. "Sam and I will keep co-ordinating the cleanup operation overnight. We can talk more tomorrow."

"That would be good," Cecil says, now watching his double with concern in his eyes. "And I… oh, has anyone been in touch with Nebolgorod?"

"I have," Steve answers. "I managed to reach them again just before we set off on our little plane-hopping trip. Everyone is OK, though Hunter and Earl were understandably worried about the three of you."

"I should call them," Cecil now says. "They need to know we're back, and…"

His eyes go to Kevin again, still full of concern, and Steve puts a hand on his arm. And Cecil doesn't resist in the slightest.

"Let me?" Steve asks. "I mean, Hunter's my brother-in-law too, and both of them are my friends, and you… I think the three of you really do need to go home."

Cecil hesitates a moment, obviously caught between responsibilities, but then he nods. "All right," he agrees. "Tell Hunter I'll call him in the morning. And… you know, thanks."

Steve pats him on the arm again. "Don't mention it."

"I… should call my sister," Kevin now says. "Does she… does she even know what's happened?"

"Not all of it," Naomi admits, looking a little guilty. "She'll have seen the news, same as everyone, but… I didn't tell her what had happened to the three of you. I didn't want to worry her. She's probably not going to be pleased with me…"

Given that Naomi and Kirsten have been on very good terms since the revolution in Desert Bluffs, this is unlikely to be a long-term problem.

"But Steve's right," Naomi goes on. "You three really should head home. I'll speak to Kirsten, and tell her what happened."

Kevin goes suddenly pale. "She… doesn't know about…"

"I know," Naomi cuts in, before he has to say any more. "Don't worry. I know."

Kevin nods at that, gratitude in his eyes, and no one else – helpfully – questions it.

And, with all of this said, they can finally start heading out. Soon, the three demons have all disappeared back to their own planes – Azatothoth seeming almost hesitant to leave Kevin, even though he'd never admit it out loud – and the rest of them set off home. Steve heads off with Caitlin and Janice, and Frederick goes off to 'fine-tune the death ray' (despite Carlos' objections).

"You're sure you'll be OK?" Naomi says to Kevin.

"Of course," Kevin insists, even though neither of them is fooled by his words.

"All right," Naomi answers, obviously reluctant. "Darla and I will go home, but we'll be back tomorrow. And if you need anything, anything at all…"

"I know," Kevin says. "Thank you. I…"

He loses it a little at that, and hugs Naomi instead, and she doesn't hesitate to hug him back. "You two look after him," she says to Cecil and Carlos, over Kevin's shoulder. "And yourselves."

"We will," Cecil promises.

It's a long moment before either Kevin or Naomi steps back from the hug.

"How are you getting home?" Vanessa asks, softly, once they do.

"My car's parked not far away," Cecil remembers. "We used it to get here the first time around."

"Saves us a long trek in the rain," Carlos says, gratefully.

"Just a couple of blocks," Kevin agrees.

"Let me walk with you?" Vanessa now asks.

"Of course," Kevin tells her. "And… wait, do you even have anywhere to stay?"

"With Dana," Vanessa answers. "She said I could, until I decide what I'm going to do next. Turns out it's much more fun to make friends with your double than… you know, the other thing."

And Kevin smiles, looking over at Cecil. "I know a little about that," he replies.

***

So they set off walking back to the car: Cecil, Carlos and Kevin, with Vanessa alongside them.

"So what will you do now?" Kevin says to Vanessa, after a moment of silence.

"I don't know," she admits. "I might go back to Desert Bluffs. Or… I might stay here. Dana asked me if I wanted to, and… maybe I do. I've been out of my own life for so long that I think I just have to start over, and…"

She trails off. "Sorry. I'm not used to having so many people to talk to. Just… you know. Andrew. And he wasn't exactly the friendliest."

"Don't apologise," Kevin replies. "I'm just glad you're OK. And… hey, you finally made it to Night Vale! All those times we used to talk about it…"

"I know," Vanessa agrees. "Not exactly how I expected it to happen, but…"

"…that's pretty much standard for around here," Carlos points out.

"True enough," Vanessa says.

"Have you thought about going back into radio?" Kevin now asks. His eyes flick over to Cecil as he does, and there's one of those weird moments where the two of them are clearly communicating without needing to speak. It culminates in a nod and a smile from Cecil, right before Vanessa answers.

"I have," she says. "And I might. But… maybe not interning. It didn't go so well for me, and…"

She trails off, a slightly haunted flicker in her eyes.

"What about producing?" Kevin suggests. "As in… producer. Our producer."

Vanessa stops and stares at him. "Seriously?" she says. "You'd…"

"So long as Station Management will sign off on it," Cecil concurs. "Which they probably will, given that the post has been vacant since Daniel left, and that's over a year now…"

"And you have loads of experience," Kevin adds. "You interned for me for a long time. You'd be perfect."

Vanessa actually squeaks with delight. "I won't let you down!" she says. "And thank you! And… OK, wow, this is actually really cool..!"

Kevin smiles at that. "It's the least I can do. And you… if you ever need to talk about… you know, anything, you know where I am."

"Likewise," Vanessa answers. "I… think I probably know more than most. Andrew liked to share."

"That doesn't surprise me," Kevin manages, the weight of recent events right there in his eyes again.

It's going to be some time before it goes away.

They reach the car at last, and Vanessa gives Kevin one more hug before he climbs in, and then they're off, Vanessa waving from the curbside.

They saved her. He saved her.

That has to count for a lot.

***

The streets of Night Vale are quiet as they drive, though the lights in some of the houses speak of lives slowly returning to normal after a hellish few days. It's a relief to see it, and Carlos feels at least some of the ache in his chest start to subside at this very visual proof of their victory.

He sits in the back seat, with Kevin next to him, and after a little while the other man just curls in against him without a word.

It's scary how much he's shaking, now there's no one else around to see. Carlos just keeps him close, letting Cecil drive them all home.

When they get back… it looks so strange. So normal, and yet, at the same time, like it belongs in a different life. A life that never went to the First Infernal Plane. That never went through what they went through.

The three of them step from the car, and Kevin just stops, standing there in the rain, raising his head to the dark sky so the drops splash over his face.

"I'm free of him," he whispers, after a long moment. "I'm actually… finally…"

Kevin's knees go suddenly from under him, but Cecil is already close enough to catch him from behind, turning the other man in his arms and pulling him in tight.

"It's OK," he whispers. "It's OK. Let's go inside."

Carlos hurries over too, wrapping an arm around Kevin, and, between the two of them, he and Cecil help the other man into the house. Their house.

 _Home_.

It's late – almost midnight – and it's only as Carlos realises that it's Tuesday night, and they've been gone two days, that he understands quite why he's so tired. He isn't certain that time on the First Infernal Plane runs at precisely the same speed as it does here (because it doesn't exist, in either case) but it's enough to convince them all that they should go to bed.

Via the shower. The three of them go together, but – for once – there's nothing sexual about it. Only a soul-deep desire not to be alone. And Kevin spends most of the time staring up at the falling water, like he's still watching the rain, lost in his own head.

It's more than a little terrifying.

Eventually, the moment comes when they can finally lie down together, curling up in bed with Kevin in the middle. Cecil wraps him in close, with Carlos on the other side, spooning in against Kevin's back, and they just hold him.

He's still shaking.

"…I'm so sorry…" Kevin whispers, finally, like he's had to psyche-up to getting the words out.

The other two hold him tighter.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Cecil insists. "You saved our lives. You saved _everyone_."

He did, after all. Not just them, but everyone in both towns as well. If the Management Board had gotten back through… the consequences don't bear thinking about.

Kevin curls in even tighter, as though trying to hide in their arms. Or, perhaps, terrified that he'll only get to stay there for so long. "I hurt you."

"You did what you had to," Cecil says. "You didn't cause either of us any real physical damage. And… the rest is easier to bear, now we know you were on our side the whole time."

"But… the things I did…"

" _Kevin_ ," Carlos says, gently, "it's OK. I promise you."

"It isn't," Kevin insists, voice cracking. "When I was with Mr Hartley, he and I… we…"

Carlos knows. Cecil knows too. It wasn't exactly hard to miss at the time. Though it is infinitely more horrifying now they also know that Kevin was lucid all the way through.

"We know," Cecil tells him, holding on tighter. "It's all right. We know."

That doesn't stop it hurting. Not because it feels like a betrayal – on the contrary, it's the exact opposite – but because of what the man had to go through, to keep up the facade. To stop Derek Hartley realising that he was one opportune weapon away from a long-deserved final death.

"…Why aren't you mad?" Kevin whispers, finally. "Why aren't you..?"

He tries to pull away from them at that, but doesn't exactly get far, given how tightly the other two are wrapped around him. He goes still after a moment, dropping his head back on the pillow and falling silent.

"Because the only person we could be angry _with_ is dead," Cecil answers. "And you… you saved our lives."

"…I threatened to _kill_ you."

"And did you mean it?" Cecil pushes, gently. "Would you ever have done it?"

Kevin gives a jump of alarm at the question. "No," he gasps. " _Never_."

Cecil strokes slowly over his double's shoulder. "Then it's OK."

"But… but how _can_ it be..?" Kevin starts off, falling silent when Carlos props his own head on one hand, so he can see the other man better whilst still wrapped around him from behind.

"Kevin," Carlos interjects, in what he only realises later is a softer version of Scientist Wrangling Voice. "Do you trust us?"

" _Yes_ ," Kevin replies, at once, his own voice cracking at the word. "With my _life_. With _**everything**_."

"Then trust us," Carlos says. "Trust us when we tell you that it's OK. Trust us when we tell you that none of this changes how much we love you. Trust us when we tell you that we _do_ love you."

"…Sometimes I don't know why you do," Kevin admits. "The things I've done, the things I _was_ … how can you even..?"

Cecil puts a hand on the side of his double's face. "How could we not?" he asks, gently. "We know the person you really are. You're brave, you're brilliant. You saved our lives, more than once. Plus, living with you is like living with a human ray of sunshine."

"And… something else," Carlos adds, realising that this answers a question he's been musing on for a long time. "We love you because we _do_. Because the three of us are meant to be together. Because you are a fundamental part of who we are. Because what we have is as unbreakable as a law of nature."

Kevin goes silent at that, clearly a little dumbstruck. "You…" he starts out, finally, and then immediately stops again, as if his mind can't quite parse the words.

"We love you," Carlos says. "And that is as true right now as it has ever been. As true as it will ever be."

"So you don't have to be afraid," Cecil adds. "You can hurt as much as you need to, and we will be right here with you. Right here _for_ you. And it won't change how we feel about you, and you won't ever have to be alone."

That makes Kevin curl in as tight as he possibly can. He's still shaking all over, but perhaps some of it is relief.

"I love you," he gasps, suddenly. "Both of you. More than I could ever say."

"We know," Carlos tells him, softly. "We know. And it's OK. It's OK. You're safe, and you're home, and you're with us. _And we won_."

"We did," Kevin whispers, as if his mind is slowly but surely accepting it. " _I did_. Twenty years of… and I finally…"

He loses it at that and falls silent again, but the sentiment is clear.

"You did," Cecil agrees. "You did. Now… try to sleep, and know that you will always, _always_ , be safe here with us. _Where you belong_."

Carlos knows the healing won't come overnight, not for Kevin, and not for either of them. What they went through will take time to lift, and maybe they'll carry the shadows of it forever. But, at the same time, he stands by what he's said. None of what happened changes what the three of them are. What they have.

And they won.

And that unshakeable fact is one which will always chase back the shadows.


	13. Risoluto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The central set-piece of this chapter marks something I have wanted to do for a long time - and I know at least one of you who will definitely approve... ;-)

**Risoluto**

_Resolutely_

***

The next day is a strange one.

They wake to find that it's rained all night; a glorious, cleansing rain to finish washing away the hell inflicted on Night Vale by the second Bloodstone. But, by the time the sun comes up, the clouds have cleared, and vibrant, glowing light pours over the city, shimmering from a clear, blue sky.

Their phones ring a lot during the morning, as various people try to get in touch: Steve, and Frederick, and Naomi, and Vanessa, and Kirsten, and more besides. All of them have excuses of one kind or another – and all of them are valid – but what they're really doing is trying to find out if Cecil, Carlos and Kevin are OK.

And it's hard not to be touched by that, even if Carlos does feel like they've reassured half the town between them before the morning is over.

Shortly after lunch – and just after Cecil has gotten off the phone with a very relieved-sounding Hunter and Earl – Intern Maureen calls from the radio station. Cecil puts his phone on speaker, so he and Kevin can both talk to her, which means that Carlos can listen to the whole thing too.

"So are you even coming back to work?" Maureen asks, without preamble.

This is a question that Carlos himself asked – albeit more tactfully – earlier in the day. Not because he ever doubted that the two doubles would, but because he wondered if they would _today_.

"Of course," Kevin insists. "We are _radio professionals_ , after all. Can't let a little thing like the almost-end of the world get in the way of our sworn duty!"

He's doing a good job of sounding like his normal self, although right now Carlos knows it's mostly a patina to hide the truth beneath. He himself is just hopeful that the fact Kevin can manage it at all is a good sign.

"You let _everything_ get in the way of your sworn duty," Maureen replies. "Revolutions and miniature cities and _more revolutions_ and whatever that weird holiday or whatever you went on was."

"That last one was pre-booked vacation time!" Cecil chips in. "The rest was… the rest was unavoidable. The _important_ thing is that we will definitely be back today."

"Well… good," Maureen says, trying to do a good impression of someone who doesn't care either way, but not pulling it off nearly as effectively as usual. "That's… good. Guess I'd better go put the coffee on, then, because no doubt you'll want _that_."

"Try not to die!" Kevin replies, which is sensible advice, given the coffee-making facilities at Night Vale Community Radio.

"…Always do," Maureen manages, with a sigh, and then hangs up.

***

All three of them go out to the radio station a little later, Carlos included. He doesn't want to leave the other two alone just yet and – similarly – would rather they didn't leave him alone, either.

Dana and Vanessa are both waiting for them when they arrive, sitting on the wall outside the station in the sunshine, deep in conversation. Dana's mayoral retinue are close by – Trish Hidge, her advisor, as well as her secret police honour guard – and all doing a poor impression of pretending to give Dana space to talk to her double in private. But, nevertheless, it is nice to see the young mayor looking a little more relaxed.

"There you are," Dana says, as the two women stand and pace over to meet them.

"Here we are," Cecil replies. "And… here you are? Is everything OK?"

"Oh yes," Dana answers. "Night Vale is going back to normal. Or… whatever passes as normal for us. I'm here because Vanessa invited me."

"I booked you a guest!" Vanessa tells them. "For the show. I thought it would be a good start. Plus the mayor will be able to reassure everyone, and make them feel better after what happened. That was… it's a good idea, right?"

"It's a great idea," Kevin agrees, smiling.

Vanessa beams. "I have to take this whole producing thing seriously. I want to do it well."

Her optimism is weirdly infectious. But, then, she is Dana Cardinal's double.

"How are you all?" Dana now asks, a trace of concern in her eyes, as she looks between the three of them.

"We're doing OK," Kevin replies, though he takes Cecil's hand as he does.

"And we're glad to be back," Cecil goes on. "Things always feel better when we're broadcasting."

"For you, and for all of us," Carlos adds, because it's true. When the other two are on air, everything seems more right.

And, from the way Dana smiles at this, it's clear that the young mayor agrees.

They all head into the station together, and before long they've run into Intern Maureen, who ducks out of the break room and slams the door, seconds before what sounds like an explosion echoes from the room beyond.

"…Oh, there you are," Maureen says, like she _didn't_ just escape death again.

Carlos blinks at her, then the door. And then at the vibrant blue smoke slowly seeping through the gap at the bottom.

"What just happened?" he manages.

"I was making coffee," Maureen answers. "What does it look like?"

"…Something requiring a hazmat team?" Carlos tries.

Maureen looks at him like he's lost his mind, and doesn't deign to reply. "I'm all set up in the studio," she says, instead, turning her attention to Cecil and Kevin. And then, "…This our new producer?"

"That's right," Kevin answers. "Vanessa… Maureen, our intern. Maureen, Vanessa."

"Hey," Maureen says. "So you're the mayor's double, huh? That's cool. Speaking of, why's the mayor here? Oh… wait. First guest?"

"First guest," Vanessa replies, in confirmation.

Maureen nods. "Right. Good plan. Shall we?"

This seems like tacit acceptance of the new arrangement. Which, coming from Maureen, is definitely a promising sign.

They head on down to the studio. As they step in, Vanessa pauses, looking around in amazement. "It looks _just_ like the studio back home," she breathes. "Except the walls are darker. And… you know, less blood. Although I'm guessing there's less blood there too, now?"

"A lot less," Cecil answers, with a shudder. "We broadcast from Desert Bluffs sometimes. Our coverage reaches all the way across both towns."

"I heard about that," Vanessa says. "How did you manage it?"

"Some rather odd weather balloons and a considerable amount of luck," Carlos replies.

Which is pretty standard for round here, really. And it says a lot that he rarely thinks otherwise any more.

Before long, they're ready to go: Cecil and Kevin in their usual places, with Dana opposite them – her entourage persuaded to lurk outside the door – and Carlos watching from the side, and then Vanessa and Maureen in the booth.

And, even though Carlos can still feel the weight of what they've been through; even though he's still worried about both his boyfriends – Kevin especially – there's something wonderful about them all being here. They made it. They saved Vanessa, and they made it.

Familiar lights flick on, and they're live.

_"The deer are not what they seem,"_ Kevin starts out.

_"The owls are, though,"_ Cecil continues. _"The owls are, so you should probably start running."_

The two men meet eyes and smile; a smile that heals a thousand wounds.

_"Welcome to the Greater Night Vale and Desert Bluffs Metropolitan Area."_

***

All in all, it's a long but helpful day. Helpful and reassuring, in fact. But, nevertheless, Carlos is glad when the three of them finally make it home. They're still feeling the weight of recent events, and a little downtime is definitely called for.

The evening itself is quiet. Carlos can tell that Kevin has something on his mind, although – given recent events – this really isn't a surprise. Neither he nor Cecil pushes the other man to talk about it, however. The trick with Kevin is waiting until he's ready.

And bracing yourself.

Evening blends gradually to night, and eventually Kevin announces he's going to bed. Something about the way he says it makes it seem very much like he wants to go alone, so the other two don't question it – although they do exchange a slightly worried look after he's gone.

But they give the other man space, sitting together for a little while longer before the general consensus is that they, too, should turn in.

And Carlos is so sure they'll find Kevin already in bed – perhaps even asleep – that he's somewhat taken aback as Cecil pushes open the bedroom door, and they can both see that this is not the case.

Kevin is here, dressed in just his pyjama trousers and clearly waiting for them. He meets Carlos' eyes first, then Cecil's, and then – without a word – he drops down onto one knee, bowing his head, and holding something up.

It's his knife, hilt-first.

Carlos is more than a little stunned by the sight, so it's perhaps a mercy that Cecil recovers faster; putting a careful hand on his shoulder and then turning to Kevin, taking a step closer.

"Tell me what you're asking for," he says, soft and sure, in that tone of voice that does such wonderful things to Carlos, even when he's not the focus of it.

"Please," Kevin replies, keeping his head down. "I need to be yours. Both of yours. I…"

He trails off, voice cracking, and Cecil steps in closer at once, taking the knife from Kevin and then resting his free hand on the side of his double's face, gently urging him to look up. The other man does, after a moment; those beautiful, newly-blue eyes so full of emotion.

"Are you sure?" Cecil asks.

"Yes," Kevin replies, voice full of fervour.

"And do you promise that you _will_ tell me to stop if you need me to?"

" _Yes_."

Cecil pauses a moment, and then he nods. "All right," he agrees, thumb brushing lightly over Kevin's cheek. "I want you to lie down on your back, with your hands above your head."

The other man actually seems to blush a little at that, though he doesn't hesitate to do as he's told, rising to his feet as soon as Cecil lets him, and going over to the bed. As he does, Carlos seizes the moment, stepping in close to Cecil and putting a hand on his arm.

"Let me watch?" he asks. It isn't as though he's expecting not to be involved in this – quite the opposite, in fact. He's sure neither of the others would ever leave him out. But, at least for the start… he really would just like to watch.

Like Cecil did, that night, so long ago now.

Cecil meets his eyes, clearly understanding, and he nods. "Anything for you," he whispers, and kisses him quick but firm. "So long as you stay close."

The two of them take their own shirts off (and possibly Cecil helps with this part more than a little, and if that means Carlos gets to curl into his chest for a moment, skin-to-skin, then well, who could argue?) and then Carlos lies down on the bed next to Kevin. He strokes fingertips over the other man's arm, slow and gentle, before pillowing his hands under his own head, to give himself a slightly better view.

Cecil slips onto the bed, now, and climbs smoothly on top of Kevin so he's straddling his double's hips. The man beneath him gives a soft gasp at that, his expression full of need, hands tightening a little but not moving from where they're curled, up above his head.

"Keep your hands there," Cecil says. There's no force to his tone, no firmness, but it's still clear that the words aren't a request. "If you move them, I'll stop. Do you understand?"

Kevin nods, caught in Cecil's eyes and seemingly unable to look away. "Yes," he answers. "Yes, I understand."

It's more than just a test of loyalty and obedience, though, and Carlos knows it. It's also a way for Kevin to say stop without actually having to get the word out, and he clearly knows it too, and there's no doubting that so does Cecil. Which in turn means that Cecil has considered a scenario like this in advance, and mentally planned for it.

Though that, when you pause and think about it, isn't exactly a surprise. But it is a good thing.

This is not a moment you want to get wrong.

Cecil lifts the knife, now; letting it catch the low lighting, shimmering as it moves. He stares at it, seeming to study it, the way it glitters, the way it feels in his hand. Balance and weight. Resonance and history.

And then, slowly, he lowers the blade to trace it gently across Kevin's chest. It's a careful action, measured not to push too hard, too fast, but both men's eyes seem to darken at that first kiss of metal to skin, and Carlos can't help thinking that Cecil won't hold back for long.

" _Oh_ ," Kevin gasps, very softly.

"You like that?" Cecil asks.

" _Yes_."

"Should I do it again?"

" _Yes_."

Cecil smiles. "Say please."

Kevin looks like he'd fall over backwards, were he not already lying down. " _Please_."

So Cecil does. He strokes the blade across the top of Kevin's chest, a little more firmly this time, and the man gasps again at the sensation. Which – Carlos knows from experience – is understandable. It's hard not to lose your breath somewhat when there's a blade against your skin, even one that is never going to do you genuine harm.

The reaction – and the obvious positivity of it in particular – seems to make Cecil feel more confident about it all. He starts tracing the knife over the contours of Kevin's chest, slow and measured, taking his time with it. And, though there's an edge of caution to the movement, it's gradually becoming something else as well.

Deliberate. _Teasing_. Which is proven beyond a shadow of a doubt when Cecil first brushes the edge of the blade over one of Kevin's nipples, and the other man's eyes roll back in delight.

"OhCecil _yes_ ," he manages, which makes Cecil smile again.

"Good?" Cecil asks, as if there were still any questioning it.

Kevin doesn't seem able to answer this out loud, but his very emphatic nod speaks volumes.

"I thought so," Cecil replies. "Now…"

It's clear from the sudden shift in his tone that he's about to do something rather more significant, and he is, because Cecil leans in much closer at that, pressing the blade against Kevin's throat. His double's eyes widen in response, and he stares upwards, obviously unable to look away.

"…tell me why you need this."

It's a moment before Kevin finds the voice to answer. Or, perhaps, the words to say.

"Because I need to be yours. Both of yours. Because I need… I…"

Cecil doesn't push him any harder. He just waits, blade still in place, expression full of equal parts patience and determination, until the pressure of the silence makes Kevin keep going.

"…Because I've only ever let one person do this to me before, so I need you to do it too, because I want you to have everything. _Everything_. I… I don't want there to be a single good thing left that one of you wasn't the last person to do to me. I…"

Before he can say any more – before he _has_ to say any more – Cecil moves the knife away from Kevin's throat and surges down to kiss him, hard and loving and desperate, and it's so utterly beautiful to watch that Carlos can't hold back a little murmur of delight. Even though the shadows behind the words are painful. Even though he knows – they all know – precisely what Kevin means.

"You're ours," Cecil says, soft and sure, as the kiss breaks. "And whatever you need to help you feel it, to help you _know_ it, we will give you. Or do to you. _Especially now we know how much you love it_."

" _ **Please**_ ," Kevin gasps.

"Ask me again," Cecil pushes, and then his voice drops, taking on that low and wonderful edge that makes Carlos want to fall to his knees – even though he's lying down – and, it seems, has a very similar effect on Kevin. " _Beg me again_."

" _Please_ ," Kevin breathes, without hesitation. "Please don't stop."

So Cecil doesn't. He resumes tracing the knife over Kevin's chest, as if drawing out invisible patterns over his skin, and with every last motion of the blade it seems that Kevin is drifting further and further out of his own mind. His eyes go distant and, even though they're still open, it's hard to tell just how much he's actually seeing.

It's a feeling Carlos is familiar with; the sense that reality itself is turning black, and the experience, the moment, the points of connection, are all that exist.

In a word, it's wonderful, and it makes the whole world go quiet, no matter how much is waiting beyond the moment, trying to seize a chance to intrude. It can't. Not when you're here. Not when you're _there_.

" _Oh_ ," Kevin gasps, soft and faraway, which makes Cecil smile.

"Still good?" he asks.

Kevin doesn't seem able to verbalise an answer to this, though the quiet little sound of happiness he makes instead speaks volumes on its own.

"I thought so," Cecil tells him, fondly.

"…Can I..?" Carlos now says, need getting the better of him.

"Of course," Cecil replies.

So Carlos lifts his head and curls in a little closer to Kevin, stroking a hand over his face before leaning in to kiss him, soft and light; the kind of gentle, teasing kisses that he knows will leave Kevin wanting more. He pulls back after a moment, but doesn't go far; staying half-propped where he is.

"I know how you feel right now," Carlos says. "I can see it in your eyes. And… it's OK to let yourself sink deeper. You're safe. You're here. _You're ours_."

The words make Kevin gasp in renewed, barely-coherent delight, which gets dialled up significantly when Carlos – after exchanging a careful look with Cecil – lifts his free hand and starts tracing gentle fingertips over Kevin's chest, following the path of the knife.

It's clearly a good idea, judging by the sudden, desperate cry of approval from the man in question. Kevin arches up against their touch, eyes wide with need, wordlessly pleading for more.

"It's all right, it's all right," Cecil murmurs, gently, as he traces the blade up the centre of Kevin's chest and along the side of his neck. "Just relax. Just let go. You're safe with us, I promise."

They can almost watch Kevin sinking deeper at that, going still again, yet seeming to surge on the careful motion of the knife, and the gentle touch of Carlos' fingertips, chasing the same path from a safe distance behind.

Eventually, Cecil slowly sits back, finally lifting the knife away, and Carlos slows his fingertips to nothing, gently breaking contact. Kevin whimpers just slightly at it all, but no more, and it's clear his mind is far under now.

"Are you ready?" Cecil says to Kevin, and he doesn't have to elaborate on what for.

Kevin manages a nod. Words seem well beyond him, but the nod is emphatic enough to make his feelings on the matter more than clear.

Cecil smiles, and his eyes flick over to Carlos, and his meaning is obvious too, without him needing to say it out loud.

_We should be less clothed_.

They both move from where they are, so they can slip off the remainder of their clothing. Kevin watches with unashamed longing in his eyes, which turns into outright need as they climb back onto the bed and start sliding his pyjama trousers off too.

"Where do you want me?" Carlos asks Cecil, which gets him quite a smile in response.

"In the middle," Cecil replies. "I have an idea…"

Carlos moves fast at that. Much as he enjoys watching – really, _really_ enjoys watching, in fact – it does have a tendency to leave him breathless with need as soon as he stops to focus on it. He kneels in between Kevin's legs, gently pushing them apart and then – because he can – starting to stroke him.

"You read my mind," Cecil murmurs in Carlos' ear, low and pleased, and oh but that does such lovely things to him. "Keep doing that…"

So Carlos does, whilst – behind him – Cecil finds the lubricant, pouring some out and then reaching around to start stroking Carlos with it.

" _Ohh_ ," Carlos gasps, arching into the contact, the aching need seeming to dial even higher in response.

"I wonder if I can get both of you out of your minds at once," Cecil says, still speaking into Carlos' ear, but loud enough for Kevin to hear too. "Wouldn't that be something?"

The short answer to this is a very emphatic 'yes', but Carlos finds himself suddenly unable to speak, and Cecil gives a soft, pleased laugh in response. "I thought so," he says.

For a long, drawn-out moment, it seems as though the whole universe is hovering on the cusp of something; and then, hand slowing to nothing before letting go, Cecil breathes a single word in Carlos' ear.

" _Now_."

So Carlos presses closer to Kevin, starting to slide slowly into him, and the way the other man arches his hips up makes it quite clear just how much he needs this. Cecil stays where he is, holding onto Carlos but no more, whilst Carlos starts to move. Kevin murmurs in bliss at that, and it's hard for Carlos not to lose himself a little in how wonderful the man beneath him looks right now.

And that's when Cecil takes hold of Carlos' hands and pulls them behind his back. And despite the fact that Cecil has flat-out told him that he has something planned, some part of it still takes Carlos by surprise.

Very, very good surprise. And, judging by the look on Kevin's face as he sees it happen, it's a plan he approves of too.

"You trust me, don't you?" Cecil says in Carlos' ear.

" _Yes_ ," Carlos gasps.

The smile is evident in Cecil's voice as he replies. " _Good_."

There's a sudden snap of metal, which is when Carlos realises that Cecil really _has_ been plotting something, and before he can do any more than whimper in shock, his wrists have been handcuffed behind his back. It makes balancing a little tricky, but the firm arm that's quickly looped around him does away with any real concerns about him falling forwards.

And the knife that's pressed suddenly under his jaw does away with everything else.

Kevin's eyes go wide at the sight, and it's about the only thing that Carlos can focus on right now.

"Both of you," Cecil says, slow and firm and certain, "are _mine_. Aren't you?"

" _Yes_ ," Carlos gasps at once, vaguely aware that _his_ whole world is starting to go black, too.

"… _yes_ …" Kevin manages, though it looks like even that single word is difficult to find.

"Yes," Cecil echoes. "And I won't let anyone hurt you. Either of you. _Ever again_."

There's so much more going on here. So much more than intimacy. So much more than sex. And the realisation is so breathlessly wonderful that Carlos' whole chest aches with it.

"Don't you stop, now," Cecil adds, which is quite a thing to say to a man in handcuffs with a knife at his throat. "I want to watch you both fall apart."

Somehow, Carlos manages to keep moving. He's almost completely reliant on Cecil for balance – it would be hard not to fall right on top of Kevin without that arm looped around his chest – and the feeling of vulnerability, despite the position he's in, is all kinds of lovely.

He's not going to last long like this and – judging by the look on his face – neither is Kevin. The pleasure is building in rapidly increasing waves, and Carlos can't help a smile as he realises – albeit distantly – that Cecil was right about being able to get both of them out of their minds at the same time.

It really _is_ something.

"I'm so close," Carlos murmurs. "So close. I… _Cecil, please_."

"When I tell you, you can come," Cecil replies. "But _just_ you. Is that understood?"

Beneath them both, Kevin manages a nod, and it's testament to how far out of his head he is that he doesn't even look concerned by the order. He's reached the place where the bliss of release and the desperate need for it are almost one and the same, and Carlos feels a hazy sense of joy at the realisation.

" _Please_ ," he gasps, again. "I need… Cecil… I need…"

"I know, I know," Cecil tells him. "Not yet. Don't stop."

Carlos knows he's slipping further and further into the black with every thrust, but he does as he's told, biting his lip a little as he holds on; the world going more and more distant, the need somehow going more and more distant, until everything is just _sensation_.

" _Come for me_ ," Cecil nigh-on growls in his ear, and the words are like a ripcord, yanking Carlos back into the world just in time for him to feel pleasure explode through him, white-hot and perfect. He cries out, wordless and grateful and adoring, feeling the way Kevin shakes beneath him as he all but shatters in bliss.

When it's over, Cecil just holds him close, letting him revel in the aftershocks.

"Was that good?" he murmurs, after a moment.

Carlos manages a nod. Full coherence is beyond him right now.

He can hear the smile in Cecil's voice when the other man replies. "I'm glad," he says. "You're so very, very wonderful when you fall apart like that. And all the other times…"

There's a clink of metal as Cecil slowly unlatches the handcuffs, keeping Carlos held close as he does. "I want you to lie down again," Cecil tells him. "Next to Kevin, where you were before. Can you do that for me?"

Carlos manages another nod. "Yes," he murmurs. "Anything for you."

He pulls back slowly – lingeringly – and half-lies, half-falls down next to Kevin, before lifting a hand to stroke gently over Kevin's chest. That gets him a soft gasp of approval, and an incoherent but happy little sound in response.

Cecil moves in closer now, pushing Kevin's legs apart again and slicking himself with more of the lubricant. And then he curls in over the man at the same time as sliding into him, so they're face to face as their hips lock together.

Beautiful, chiral perfection. Carlos would go out of his head at the sight, if he wasn't already.

"I'm going to make you fall apart," Cecil says, soft and sure, against Kevin's lips. "I'm going to make you fall apart so utterly that all you'll be able to remember is that you're ours. Ours, and only ours. And you won't ever have to be afraid again. Not ever. Because you're here, where you belong, and nothing and no one can change that."

Kevin looks like he's going to break, totally and completely, but nothing registers in his eyes except joy. Pure, absolute joy. And, perhaps, a sense of true freedom.

"Yes," he breathes, in rapture, in hope, in acceptance. " _Yes_."

And Cecil starts to move, slowly but surely, building into a rhythm that makes Kevin's eyes roll back and go even hazier, as he surrenders to it, luxuriates in it, without question.

"You feel so good," Cecil tells him, his own breath a little ragged now. "So very, very good. Are you close?"

Kevin manages a nod, mouthing the word 'yes' but seemingly unable to give it full voice.

"Should I let you come?"

Kevin nods again, somewhat more emphatically this time.

Cecil smiles, wicked and adoring in equal measure. "Say please."

"… _please_ ," Kevin gasps.

That makes his double curl in close again, nose-to-nose, smile still in place. For a second that must last an age in Kevin's head, it looks as though Cecil isn't going to relent just yet, but then his expression blends to something gentler.

"Come for me," he whispers. "For _us_."

And Kevin does. Kevin comes like every iota of need that's slowly been winding tighter and tighter inside him has broken all at once, and it's only the weight of Cecil on top of him that stops the man lifting right off the bed. He all but screams, broken and blissed and _theirs_ , the climax nigh-on breaking him apart as it tears through him.

Cecil follows him over the edge after a moment, pressing in to capture Kevin's lips in a firm, possessive kiss as he too finally comes, riding out every last wave of pleasure long after Kevin has collapsed beneath him.

When it's over, Cecil somehow manages to roll the two of them onto their sides, wrapping Kevin in furiously tight and letting Carlos spoon in firmly behind him. The man in the middle is still shaking from head to toe, half in pleasure and half in raw emotion, and Carlos is confident that Kevin would fall apart completely right now, if they let go of him.

"It's all right," Cecil whispers, so very gently now. "It's all right. We have you. You're here. You're home. You're safe."

" _I love you_ ," Kevin chokes out, as if the words are more important than oxygen. "Both of you. _**I love you**_."

"We know," Carlos tells him, his own mind still gloriously hazy and distant. "We know."

Kevin doesn't stay conscious for much longer after that, the shaking quickly subsiding as he grows calmer and calmer in their embrace, before his mind slips under completely and he drifts off to sleep.

"…You're really good at this," Carlos murmurs to Cecil.

And Cecil smiles. "I learned from the best."

***

The next couple of days tick past, and before long Saturday is upon them. Saturday June 20th, the one-year anniversary of the liberation of Desert Bluffs.

But it's more than just the people of that particular place who gather there on the long-awaited day: much of Night Vale descends on its sister-city as well, to join in the celebrations. It's an important anniversary, after all: the end of Strexcorp-that-was, and the beginning of a new and friendly relationship between the chiral towns.

And that's how Carlos comes to be standing in the sunlight, surrounded by people who have changed his life so immensely in the last few years. Not just Cecil and Kevin, who he loves more deeply and more desperately with every passing second, but so many others who have become such an intrinsic part of his world.

With Steve and Caitlin and Janice, and Kirsten and Gillian; all of them family, now. Hunter and Earl, too, who have come topside with a contingent from Nebolgorod, to join in the celebrations.

With Josie and Larry Leroy and John Peters (you know, the farmer?), who all helped save Night Vale and Desert Bluffs in a way that still doesn't quite make sense (but maybe it doesn't have to). And with Josephine and Lawrence and James, their doubles, who helped show that allying with your chiral other is a lot better than killing them.

With Dana and Vanessa and Tamika and Linnea, who all proved that even the youngest person can save the world. And then rule it, and rule it better. And, where necessary, fly helicopters whilst reading two books simultaneously. (Because sometimes one is not enough).

With Fey, who still dances in the sunshine and sings to the stars, and murmurs about things yet to come. And feet.

With a whole chorus of angels, who people seem to be seeing and – perhaps – even acknowledging a little more every day. And with rather a few demons, who aren't so bad when you get to know them. Some of them.

With one demon in particular, eight-foot and bat-winged, who stands close to his summoner, and who would die for him, no matter how much he insists otherwise.

With Hiram McDaniels – all five heads raised in triumph – and, supposedly, the Faceless Old Woman close by. Even though no one is sure, because she prefers it that way.

With a group of scientists, who are a large part of the reason Carlos is here in the first place, and whom he adores. Even when they build death rays. And bring them to large public events, because it 'looks cool'.

With Trish and Pamela – in the middle of holding a press conference on the festivities – and with Sheriff Sam, who doesn't seem to mind Desert Bluffs so much anymore, even if they do still look a little suspicious. Suspicion is their job, after all.

With Naomi and Darla Hartley, the half-demon and the necromancer, who co-ran a revolution via the medium of breakfast. And by never losing sight of the people who matter to them.

With so many others, a great crowd, united by the trials they went through, the dangers they faced, the victory they shared. The people of two towns, two _cities_ ; chiral and similar and different all at once.

And, beneath a crystal-blue sky, beneath a glowing sun, amidst the great chorus of all these people who changed his world forever, Carlos smiles.

They won. What lies behind is over.

And what lies ahead is just beginning.


	14. Intimo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And _this_ chapter... oh, dear reader, **this** chapter. So, you remember Chapter Six of _Songs of the Enantiomers_? 'Undisclosed Desires'? That one where I set myself a challenge to write a whole chapter that was just fanservice?
> 
> Well, this one is like that. Except dialled up to twelve. The first half of it is something I've been trying to write for _ages_ \- at one point, it was going to be the finale of _Three Strikes_ , but my plans changed. And I'm glad they did, because it fits so much better here. The _second_ half of this one is something I've been trying to write for considerably longer.
> 
> And together? Together I hope they're the finale you've been waiting for. :-)

**Intimo**

_Intimately_

***

For two and a half weeks, everything goes back to normal; as much as anything in Night Vale can ever be said to be 'normal'. And _then_ comes the morning that Carlos finds a door in the kitchen that wasn't there before.

In the first instance, this is alarming. Given the prevalence of mysterious doors appearing in Night Vale and his own extensive history with them, Carlos' initial concern is that it might lead to another plane of existence. Potentially one filled with demons.

Recent experience has proven that this would be bad.

But the door is neither old, nor oak, and no matter what angle he looks at it from, it always seems exactly the same. The surface isn't warm to the touch, nor cold, and it doesn't hum, thrum, glow or otherwise act in such a way that would warrant further alarm.

It's just _there_. And it wasn't yesterday. And, non-ominous or not, it's still weird.

What's even more weird is that both Cecil and Kevin don't seem the slightest bit perturbed by it. They either can't see it – which, though possible, is extremely unlikely – or they don't have cause to question it.

Something is going on, and Carlos needs to get to the bottom of it. He just isn't sure how yet.

It's shortly after dinner that evening, when Cecil's cellphone rings. He gives his two boyfriends an apologetic look, lifts his phone to take the call, and then rolls his eyes as he sees who's calling and answers.

"What do you want, Steve? OK, wait, you did..? _Again?_ Does my sister know?" Cecil listens for another moment and then sighs. "Yes. Fine. No, I realise I promised, I know." Another sigh. "Yes, Steve, I'll head over now. Goodbye."

And he hangs up.

"Everything all right?" Kevin asks.

"Yeah," Cecil says, a little heavily. "Steve's up to something again, and he won't tell me what it is – only that my sister would _want_ me to help out – and…" He shakes his head. "And I did promise that I'd be more _supportive_ " – a word he punctuates with air-quotes – "so… so I guess I'm just going to have to head over and find out precisely what the man is up to."

Kevin grins. "You love him really."

"Shush," Cecil insists, more than a little unconvincingly. "And if this is about the monolith-thing again, we _will_ be having words. At length."

"I don't doubt it," Kevin says, still smiling. "You want us to come along?"

"No, it's OK, there's no reason to let Steve drag _all_ of us into whatever insane _thing_ he's doing this time." Cecil looks between his two boyfriends, and a smile finally crosses his face. "Besides… I'm sure the pair of you can keep yourselves suitably occupied whilst I'm gone."

"Oh, I imagine we'll think of something," Kevin agrees, flashing a glance over at Carlos that is either meant to be predatory or… well. _Very_ predatory. If Kevin is in one of _those_ moods, things might get interesting.

Carlos tries to keep his expression level. It is suddenly not easy.

***

It's a little while later, and Cecil has just set out, leaving Carlos and Kevin at home. Making a vague attempt to seem calm and nonchalant and _not_ like he's hoping thoroughly wicked things might be about to happen to him, Carlos stays where he is, still sitting on one of the couches in the living room. He has a book on his knee, and he's trying to give the impression that he's reading it, but right now the thing could be upside down and he probably wouldn't notice.

Luckily, Kevin doesn't keep him waiting. The man is nothing if not punctual.

" _So_ ," Kevin says, in a tone of voice that makes it clear he's about to ask a leading question, "what _shall_ we do now?"

Answering this is not easy. What Carlos would _like_ to say is 'you could pin me to the couch and ravage me into incoherence', but you don't just _admit_ these things outright. Or, maybe you do if you're better at this than he is.

What he instead says is, "…Did you have something in mind?"

Kevin smiles. Kevin has a smile for every occasion, but certain ones he favours. And this one is usually a good sign. "I might have," he replies, rising smoothly to his feet. He paces over, gently taking the book from Carlos' hands and laying it aside, before climbing easily on top of him, straddling his lap and putting both hands on his shoulders.

Carlos' breath catches. "Are you going to tell me?" he says, trying so very hard to keep his voice level. "Or is it a surprise?"

"A little of both," Kevin answers. And then, a non-sequitur that is obviously _very_ sequitur, he adds, "You haven't asked about the door yet."

"…You can see it, then?"

"I can see it. Of course I can see it. I put it there. Well… no. I _had_ it put there."

"Who by?"

A headtilt. "…Contacts of mine. They owed me a favour."

"Were these _contacts_ demonic in some way?"

"They may have been."

Carlos gives Kevin a careful look. "Promise me it doesn't lead to another plane of existence."

Kevin grins. "I promise it doesn't lead to another plane of existence."

"Then where _does_ it lead?"

"Where else? It leads to the basement."

"Kevin, we don't _have_ a basement."

The other man grins more. "We do now."

Carlos is finding it harder and harder to keep his expression level, to say nothing of stopping his heart from racing. Hope and apprehension can be such remarkably similar things.

"Am I to assume this inexplicable basement is not merely for storing assorted household electrical goods?"

"No, Carlos. This basement is for… other things."

One good leading remark deserves another. "Such as what?"

Kevin leans in closer. "Would you like me to show you?"

It is important not to cry 'oh yes please' too fast, no matter how much you might want to. Or how much you might mean it. Carlos somehow remembers to pause for what he hopes looks like a thoughtful breath before he says, "…Yes. Yes, I would."

"Good," Kevin says, softly. _Dangerously_. "Because I might not have taken no for an answer…"

Focus. Focus. Don't lose it now.

"…Shall we?" Carlos replies, just about managing to stop his voice jumping up an octave as he speaks.

Kevin kisses him once, quickly, and then leaps to his feet, pulling Carlos upright as well and gripping hold of his hand, tugging him through to the kitchen and over to that previously-nonexistent door. On one level, Carlos still wants to be surprised and alarmed by it, but – given Kevin's track record – he realises he probably shouldn't be.

The absence of glowing, humming, and old-oakness all help with this.

With a little flourish, Kevin pushes the door open, and leads him down the suitably-ominous stairway beyond. And, though the other man's expression is textbook-level, there's an edge to his movements, almost as if he's nervous about how Carlos is going to react to the surprise he's evidently spent some time planning.

Though – given his aforementioned track record – the answer to this is probably 'very well'.

At the bottom of the stairs is a room; a room with smooth, grey walls and low lighting. There's a table (currently empty) and a storage chest (currently closed) at the far end, though Carlos only has a few seconds to muse on these before he's caught by the sight of what the main feature actually is.

There are chains hanging from the ceiling in the centre of the room, glinting in the low light. Carlos stares – glad that Kevin can't see his face and read his reaction too easily – at which point the other man steps right in behind him, and promptly dials that reaction right up to eleven. Or possibly twelve.

"I was thinking," Kevin says, speaking tantalisingly close to Carlos' ear, "that I could chain you up down here and torment you out of your brilliant mind." A pause, to let this sink in, before he adds, "Or would you prefer to go back to reading books on the couch?"

"I'm all done reading for tonight," Carlos answers, far, _far_ too quickly.

He can _feel_ the way Kevin smiles at that. "I thought as much."

And, now that Carlos has voiced his approval for the idea, Kevin moves fast. He pushes Carlos into the nearest wall, turning him around and kissing him, whilst pulling clothing off him, stripping him to the waist. The act is firm and insistent and it really is _very_ lovely to be the focus of such attention. Lovely and a little ominous. Because what's going to happen when..?

The thought is interrupted – and the question, perhaps, answered – as Kevin pulls him back into the centre of the room and _chains him up_. The world goes a little hazy as that cold metal is closed around Carlos' wrists, and he's struck by the possibility – not for the first time – that Kevin can somehow read minds. Because… Carlos has imagined a scenario like this, once or twice. Or more. Seeing the inside of a Strexcorp Room of Questions will do that to you, no matter how much it shouldn't.

Or, it will if you're this way inclined, at least.

Kevin steps back, and the break in contact makes Carlos suddenly very, very aware of the physicality of the situation. Of how his arms are held, spread, up above him. Of how very, very vulnerable he is, caught like this.

The world goes hazier still. He tries to focus, reciting a couple of equations in his head in an attempt to stay grounded, although there's a significant risk that – if he keeps doing this – certain equations are going to take on unhelpful connotations in his mind.

"Well, now," Kevin says, in a level tone of voice far too reminiscent of days past. "It looks like I have you all to myself for a little while. Though, at the same time, I can't wait to show Cecil when he gets back. He may _seem_ like the good one, but deep down he's as wicked as I am… or, _almost_ as wicked as I am, at least."

He smiles. Carlos gives a tug on the chains, needing to feel how caught he is. _Wanting_ to feel it. And… it's a little terrifying. A little terrifying, and completely wonderful.

"Oh, you're not going anywhere fast," Kevin tells him, reaching out and running light, teasing fingertips down his side. "You're not going anywhere at all, in fact. I have you right where I want you. And, Carlos, let me remind you… if Cecil is the good one, what does that make me?"

"…The _very_ good one?" Carlos tries.

Kevin's smile gets much, much more dangerous. "Guess again."

He launches in, wrapping both arms around Carlos and kissing him almost bruisingly hard. The intensity, the _ferocity_ , takes Carlos by such surprise that instinct makes him try to back off. But he can't, of course – not chained as he is – and the feeling of being completely caught is suddenly overwhelming.

"I told you you're not going anywhere," Kevin murmurs against his lips, as the kiss finally breaks. "Not until _I_ let you. You are _completely_ at my mercy. I hope you understand what that means."

"I trust you," Carlos manages, as much a reminder to himself as anything else. "I love you. And you… I know you wouldn't do anything I don't want."

"Oh, Carlos," Kevin breathes, in the tone of voice of a man who just won the whole world. "Beautiful, brilliant Carlos… you're quite right. I'd never do anything you didn't want. _But I know the things you want, don't I?_ "

Never mind hazy, that tone and those words make reality go black, and Carlos feels suddenly as though the chains – and Kevin's hands – are the only things holding him up.

" _Please_ ," Carlos whispers. "I… I…"

"You're scared," Kevin says, when Carlos can't get another word out. "You should be. You just let the _bad_ one lure you down to the previously non-existent basement, strip you off, and chain you up."

"I wanted you to," Carlos insists, and he did. He knows he did.

"Yes," Kevin replies, eyes wide with pleasure and promise. "Yes. You did. You want lots of things, Carlos. Many of them that you won't admit out loud. Luckily for you, I am _very_ good at reading people. And, my beautiful scientist… I can read you like a _book_."

Kevin kisses him again. There's less ferocity behind it this time, but no less insistence, and Carlos can't hold back a rather needy whimper in response. He tries to keep his expression at least vaguely level as the kiss breaks, though it isn't easy. It isn't easy at all. And it gets harder – if perhaps less of an issue – as Kevin paces slowly around him, moving to stand behind, out of sight.

There's a pause – a breath, a tease, a promise – and then a low, metallic _shiiiiiik_ sound cuts the still air.

Carlos' whole body goes tense. He'd like to be able to say that the response is entirely due to concern – perhaps even alarm – at the knowledge that the man behind him has just drawn his knife. That would, after all, be the normal response. The _sensible_ response.

But no. This isn't concern. Or, not really. This is hope, plain and simple, and Carlos fights against himself to keep it hidden. Admitting it is not easy, after all… even if the truth is writ large in every breath, every tremor of movement, every thunderous heartbeat.

He can't see Kevin's face, but he's certain the other man is smiling.

"I know you want it," Kevin says, very softly, not making contact with him yet. "You can't hide that from me. So… say please."

" _Please_ ," Carlos gasps instinctively, and without allowing himself time to think about it. " _Oh, please_."

And, evidently happy to oblige, Kevin steps in close behind him all at once, right hand resting on Carlos' hip and bringing that knife up and around with his left, slipping it under Carlos' jaw. Hearing it is one thing, but _feeling_ it is quite another, and Carlos suddenly can't move.

Not that he could get far if he tried. But this is the point, of course.

"You like that?" Kevin murmurs into his ear.

" _Yes_ ," Carlos replies.

The knife is pressed in just a little harder. "I knew you would," Kevin says. "I knew, because I know _you_ , through and through. I know the things you want, and I know the things you want but won't admit to, sometimes not even to yourself. Isn't that right?"

"…Yes," Carlos answers, softly. It isn't easy to get the word out, but he knows there's no denying it. None whatsoever.

"Yes," Kevin echoes. "And you want this. You want this perhaps most of all. Not for physical hurt – oh no, not that – but for the danger. The _threat_. The knowledge that your very _life_ is completely in my hands. And, of course, because the soft kiss of cool metal really is _intoxicatingly_ lovely, isn't it?"

" _Yes_ ," Carlos manages again, a good octave higher than the last time.

" _Yes_ ," Kevin echoes once more, a world of pleasure in that one simple syllable.

He strokes the blade slowly up the centre of Carlos' throat, and Carlos can't help a little shudder of need in response, mind starting to slip gradually under. Letting go never feels easy, and yet, when it happens, it just _happens_.

Which means he's taken by surprise as, all of a sudden, Kevin presses the knife in _hard_ – hard enough that Carlos doesn't dare move an inch – and slides his other hand down from Carlos' hip to rub firmly between his legs. The counterpoint of it all – threat and promise, pain and pleasure – makes the whole world go black for a moment, and words tumble from Carlos' lips before he has a chance to think about them.

" _What are you going to do to me?_ "

Kevin laughs, soft, _pleased_ , before he replies. "What do you think I'm going to do to you?"

That sends a fresh wave of need sparking right through Carlos, and only the blade at his throat keeps him even remotely grounded as the mental images threaten to run wild. After a few seconds, the hand between his legs rubs firmly again, and Kevin moves in closer, so their bodies are pressed tightly together.

"That wasn't a rhetorical question," Kevin points out, with a faint hint of threat to his tone. " _What do you think I'm going to do to you?_ "

The edge to Kevin's voice is enough to pull the words from Carlos, without allowing time for them to go through any kind of mental filter. "I don't know… I don't know, and the not-knowing is killing me, and I… I just know I need it. Need _you_. Please, Kevin. _Please_."

"Again," Kevin pushes.

" _PleaseKevin_ ," Carlos manages, feeling suddenly as though the other man's soft insistence has knocked all of the spaces from the world. And the punctuation.

" **Again**."

" _IneedyouIneedyou **please**_."

This time, the other man doesn't respond straight away. The silence weighs heavy, full of danger and promise, right before Kevin lets go of him. As he steps back, the sudden break in proximity makes Carlos dizzy with renewed need, blood burning for the other man's touch. There are slow footsteps on the until-recently-nonexistent floor, and then Kevin moves in front of him again.

He puts a hand on Carlos' jaw. "Keep your eyes on me," he instructs, softly. "Don't drop your head. Don't look away. You understand?"

"Yes," Carlos whispers. "Yes, I understand." His brain seems to have found the spaces now, though that doesn't feel surprising. Not when the world is suddenly full of those spaces; great, vast emptiness, like the cavernous void between nucleus and electron.

The words get him quite a smile in response; pleasure, perhaps, at how quickly he's acquiesced. But how could he ever do anything else?

And then the blade touches his skin. The contact is firm, possessive, decisive, but he knows – at the same time – that Kevin won't hurt him. That he never would. And, for Carlos, that trust is everything. To know he can rely on it, believe in it, with absolute certainty, like a law of nature.

For Kevin… that trust is something else. But Carlos knows this, too.

Slowly, slowly, Kevin starts to trace the blade over Carlos' chest. Carlos' immediate urge is to close his eyes, but he's been told not to, so he doesn't. It isn't easy, though; isn't easy to keep eye-contact with the other man whilst he's doing this, to know that every barest flicker of reaction will be right there, where Kevin can see it. To know that it will be obvious – unmissable – just how much Carlos wants this.

And it isn't exactly something they've done often. A handful of times at most – plus the rather astonishing night when Kevin asked Cecil to do it to him – and not one of those cases has been quite like this. Yet, on some level, some part of Carlos is always craving it. He doesn't know why… but maybe that's an element of why he loves it.

A mystery he can't solve, and can't deny. A perfect equation without an answer.

"How does that feel?" Kevin asks him, his voice a firm hand, dragging Carlos deeper.

"Good," Carlos answers. The words are getting harder to speak, though not harder to find. " _Soverygood_."

Kevin smiles again at that. "Your eyes go almost as dark as mine used to be when you're like this," he says. "When you _need_ the way you do right now. And you do need, don't you? Tell me, Carlos. Tell me what you need."

"I need this. I need you. I need you to show me, to… to _make_ me… I…"

Carlos can't stop himself looking down now, but as soon as he does, Kevin slips the knife under his jaw and gently lifts his head back up. "I told you to keep your eyes on me," he points out, though his voice is soft, and there's no overt threat in it. Which means it's the most dangerous voice he has. "Don't look away again."

"I'm sorry," Carlos insists, quickly. A little desperately. "It isn't easy…"

"I know," Kevin tells him. "I know. But you don't want easy. Easy was back upstairs. You want _this_." He brushes the edge of the blade over one of Carlos' nipples, and Carlos gasps out loud, not at all prepared for how hypersensitive he is already. It sends a stab of need shooting through him, making him tug just a little on the chains holding his arms up.

And that in turn makes Kevin give a soft laugh, stepping in closer. "You're going to be out of your mind by the time this is over," he says, the words a threat and a promise in equal measure. "Although, judging by that reaction, you might be out of your mind long before the end…"

The knife is traced over Carlos' skin again; along the curve of his collarbone, and up the side of his neck, and all the while he can't look away – doesn't dare look away – so the only thing he can see is the gathering pleasure in Kevin's eyes.

They're still that beautiful, liberated blue. But they somehow go darker when he's like this.

"In fact," Kevin now says, standing close; his words a breath across Carlos' lips. "I bet I could break you on the spot. I bet I could break you without _touching_ you. Without saying a word. Do you believe me?"

"…Even you aren't quite _that_ good," Carlos replies, which is of course a challenge and an invitation all in one.

Kevin merely smiles, and takes a step back; not making any kind of contact, and not saying a word.

And then? He nods. Once.

And Carlos nearly jumps a mile when he feels hands on his wrists: hands that stroke firmly down his arms and over his shoulders before sliding lower to wrap around his waist, as a warm, lovely body steps in behind him.

" _You look incredible right now_ ," a voice breathes in his ear.

It's Cecil. Of course.

Carlos all but loses his footing at that, and only Cecil's arms keep him from falling.

"…What..?!" he exclaims, vaguely aware that he's a lot further out of his head than he previously thought. "How..? You… _Oh_."

In front of him, Kevin is smiling and smiling, like a man who just won the world.

"…You played me," Carlos manages, his heart racing at the thought.

"We did," Cecil breathes in his ear. "It was a joint endeavour. I wanted Kevin to impress me. And _he_ wanted to show off."

"But… the phonecall…"

"Staged," Kevin replies, easily. "Cecil is _such_ a convincing narrator, isn't he? And we both thought the surprise would have far more of an impact than just luring you down here. Besides… Cecil wanted to watch for a while. He says I'm a good teacher."

"I… You…" Carlos tries, but his mind won't form whole sentences.

Smile undimmed, Kevin slips the tip of the knife under Carlos' jaw and strokes oh-so-lightly along it. "I told you I could break you without a word," he says.

He wasn't wrong. And Carlos knows it. And loves it.

He also knows he's trembling. Hard. It's as though the temperature in the room has suddenly dropped twenty degrees.

" _I'll do anything_ ," he gasps, not to be ingratiating and not to beg for mercy, but because he means it.

Cecil laughs softly in his ear. "We know," he says. "Oh, we know."

Staying close behind Carlos, he slides a hand around, pushing it between his legs and making him gasp in need. "Does that feel good?" he asks, still speaking right into Carlos' ear, his voice low and heavy with promise.

" _Yes_."

"Do you want more?"

" _Yes_."

A very audible smile. "Say please."

" _Please_."

Cecil's hand strokes a little harder, but it's still over clothing, and it's still maddeningly not enough, and Carlos is starting to feel like his blood is on fire.

Kevin takes a step back again, toying faux-idly with his knife as he watches. And _waits_. And it's clear he's waiting for something specific. Cecil keeps up the teasing contact, dipping his head to kiss Carlos on the neck – right where it will drive him the most insane – and that makes Carlos cry out all over again, rather more desperately this time.

" _ **Please**_ ," he gasps. "Please… I…"

"You beg so beautifully," Kevin says, not yet making contact again. "But this time… we're not going to go easy on you."

He slips his knife away at that and steps in close, hands moving down between Carlos' legs too. He and Cecil lock fingers for a moment, both stroking maddeningly lightly just long enough to make Carlos flat-out whimper, and then Cecil lets go so that Kevin can get the front of Carlos' trousers open.

And that helps. That helps a lot. Doubly-so – pun intended – when Kevin works Carlos' clothing right out of the way, and then both of them start stroking him again. And if he thought he was hypersensitive before, it's nothing compared to the way _this_ feels.

" _Yes_ ," he gasps. "Yes… please… I need you, both of you, _please_."

"We know," Kevin tells him. "And we're going to make you _need_ , over and over. You may think you're begging now… but this is just the start."

Carlos is not entirely sure whether this thrills him or terrifies him. Possibly both. At once.

Cecil starts to stroke him a little harder – still wrapped around him from behind – whilst Kevin draws his knife again, lifting it to trace out slow, teasing patterns over Carlos' chest. It's hard not to get lost in it all… at least at first. Until the sensation starts to build to something rather more, and Carlos feels his heartrate quicken in response.

And that's when Cecil lets go of him, stepping back at the same moment as Kevin does. Carlos barely keeps his footing at the sudden loss of contact. At the sudden, desperate spike of _need_. His head is still reeling from it even as Cecil paces around in front of him, grabbing hold of Kevin and kissing him.

 _Hard_. It is breathlessly hot to watch.

"Now?" Kevin says to Cecil, as the kiss finally breaks.

Cecil nods. "Now."

And whatever this refers to – and Carlos doesn't know, though the thought of them having planned all this makes the aching need even stronger – it involves Kevin pacing around behind Carlos, and Cecil taking his place in front. There's a moment when neither of them are making contact, and every breath makes Carlos _need_ more and more.

And then Kevin moves. Kevin moves _fast_. He grabs hold of Carlos from behind, making the chains clank as he pulls him in close, one hand around his waist and the other pressing the knife _very_ firmly over his throat.

" _Beg us_ ," he growls in Carlos' ear.

"Please," Carlos says, at once, voice wavering at the sudden, unbidden, _intoxicating_ spike of fear.

Cecil puts a deceptively gentle hand on his cheek. "Please what?" he asks.

Carlos closes his eyes. "… _pull me apart_ …"

Kevin presses the knife in so tight that Carlos doesn't dare breathe. "Louder."

" _Pull me apart. **Please**_."

And Cecil starts stroking him again, hard and rough and glorious, and Carlos can feel the whole world going hazy. Especially when Cecil doesn't stop, when Kevin doesn't back off in the slightest, and he's caught between them, breathless and desperate and loving it so much that the thought alone might break him all over again.

"Are you close?" Cecil asks him, in that soft, good-one voice that never fails to fool Carlos, even when he tries not to let it.

" _Yes_ ," he answers, because he is, and there's no point in denying it.

Which is when Cecil immediately lets go of him and steps back. Kevin doesn't, though, and that's probably the only thing – other than the chains – which prevents Carlos from dropping immediately to the floor.

"Don't stop," he begs. "Please. I'll do anything. Please."

"Do you think you have the _slightest_ choice in the matter?" Kevin says, soft and deadly, and damn it all to the deepest depths of the deepest infernal plane but _that_ voice almost undoes Carlos on the spot.

The scientist's eyes go wide in response, and Cecil smiles, hand up to trace teasing fingertips over Carlos' chest. "I can see how badly you need this," he says. "But I also know what you need even _more_."

He waits an agonisingly long moment before sliding his hand lower, starting to stroke Carlos again. The first instant of contact draws a fresh gasp from the scientist's lips, and makes Kevin kiss him on the ear, not moving the knife.

" _Please_ ," Carlos whispers, waveringly, knowing it isn't going to be enough.

He's right. He's painfully on-edge when Cecil stops again, and this time the aching need is so much that he all but howls in desperation, and only the knife at his throat stops him from surging as close to Cecil as the chains will allow.

"I'll do anything," Carlos gasps, feeling like he genuinely is losing his mind. "Anything. I told you. Anything you ask, anything you want. _I surrender_."

"Not yet, you don't," Kevin retorts, soft and deadly again. "But you will."

And this time, when Cecil starts stroking him once more, it really is too much. He cries out at the contact, the sense of pleasure bordering on pain, and that's just _intoxicating_. The realisation is a heady one, spreading through him like renewed heat, chasing back the pervasive chill.

The world is going hazy, now; inside and out. Carlos lets his head drop back onto Kevin's shoulder and some part of him is surprised when the man behind him just gently kisses his neck.

"Does that feel good?" Kevin breathes, his voice suddenly low and hypnotic.

"…y-yes…" Carlos manages.

"Do you surrender?" Cecil asks him, just as soft and low.

"… _yes_ …" Carlos whispers.

And Cecil lets go of him again. And, for one second, Carlos is about to beg him – absolutely _beg_ him – for mercy.

But he doesn't. The words don't come. Everything feels slow and heavy and he's suddenly aware that he's _theirs_ , on the deepest, most fundamental level, and it's a realisation that makes his mind sink even further into the black.

"That's it," Kevin breathes. "That's it."

And Carlos is gone. It's the strangest sensation, because he's able to be aware of it without stopping it from being true. And although he's felt it before, he's not sure it's ever been quite this intense.

He doesn't beg. He doesn't plead. He just _exists_ , between them. **Theirs**.

Some part of him is aware of Cecil and Kevin exchanging a look, and then Cecil presses in and starts stroking him. _Hard_. And, this time, he doesn't stop. He doesn't stop and he doesn't stop and the building pleasure is maddening and glorious and wonderful.

" _Come for us_ ," the two doubles say, in perfect unison.

And Carlos does. Carlos comes so hard it makes the last lingering vestiges of the world go black, as the pleasure bursts through him like an unstoppable tidal wave. Kevin keeps hold of him, knife still at his throat – which is all kind of messed-up hot – and Cecil doesn't stop stroking him until the last flickers of bliss start to fade. Carlos' footing goes completely at this point, although the other two have a firm hold of him long before his arms have to take his weight, making sure he doesn't injure himself.

"We've got you," Kevin breathes, his tone gentle now. "We've got you, it's all right."

It is. It's all right. Everything is. Carlos tries to say something to that effect and manages little more than an incoherent murmur. He hears the soft chink of metal as Kevin slips his knife away, and then both of them just hold him between them, kissing his neck, stroking gently over his skin.

"…Wow," Cecil says, sounding a little shaken himself. "That was intense."

"That was just the start," Kevin replies. "You did say I'm a good teacher… and I'm not done showing you everything just yet. Plus I've been taking the time to learn a few new things. I think we might get _quite_ a lot of use out of this place."

'Yes, please,' Carlos tries to say, but once more it just ends up as an incoherent little sound. A very happy, very approving incoherent little sound.

Cecil laughs, soft and warm. "I think Carlos is in favour."

"I think you're right," Kevin agrees. "Something to look forward to. Right now… we should take our dear scientist to bed."

Between them, they carefully unchain Carlos' wrists, guiding them down and rubbing them gently, before half-leading, half-carrying him back upstairs. His mind is still so far under that the whole process is little more than a blur, but he feels so very, very good that he doesn't object in the slightest. It's almost a surprise when they carefully drop him down onto the centre of the bed, tugging the last of his clothing off and letting him lie there in hazy bliss whilst they take a moment to strip each other as well.

Vaguely aware – again – that he's missing something, Carlos watches the two of them, right until they move in closer. Kevin climbs in next to Carlos, stroking over his chest and kissing him, soft and gentle and _deceptive_ … and then all of a sudden he takes firm hold of Carlos and flips him over onto his front, pressing in on top of him, pinning his wrists above his head and pushing a knee between his legs.

"Did you think we were done with you?" he says, low and deadly, right in Carlos' ear again. "We're not. We're _really_ not. We've had the part where we break you. _This_ is the part where we have our wicked way with you, whilst you're _helpless_ to resist."

" _Ohyes_ ," Carlos gasps, in breathless fervour. "Yes. _Please_."

"I thought you'd like that," Kevin tells him. "We both did. _And I bet we know what else you'd like_."

The two of them move fast, and before Carlos knows it he's been pulled up onto his knees, his legs pushed apart, and one of them is sliding a lubricated finger into him. He cries out in bliss, trying to work out which of them it is… at least until he feels the second finger and he realises that it's _both_ of them.

"Please," he gasps. "Please don't stop. _Please don't hold back_."

Maybe he knows what he's asking for. Maybe it's just instinct. But, whichever it is, he doubts it's only just dawned on the other two. Though, at the same time, he's sure they only decide on it for definite right here and right now.

One of them carefully slides in a second finger, followed – even more carefully – by the other doing the same. Carlos can hardly tell where one of them begins and the other ends right now, and it fills him with a heady, desperate pleasure. Even having already been given release… he _needs_.

And he can hear them kissing. He wishes he could watch. Though he's not wholly sure he can actually see right now.

"Ask us again," Cecil says.

" _Please don't hold back_ ," Carlos begs, his mind becoming more and more aware of what he's asking for.

There's a pause. "Yes?" Kevin says, softly, and he's clearly speaking to Cecil.

"Yes," Cecil replies.

They slowly slide their fingers free, and then Kevin pulls Carlos upright, so he's on his knees, wrapping around him from behind. There's a gloriously rough edge to it, but – at the same time – he's clearly being careful now.

"Do you know what you're asking for?" Kevin says.

" _Yes_ ," Carlos replies. He does.

"Then _ask_ for it."

"Both of you," Carlos whispers. "I need both of you."

"Are you sure?" Cecil says.

" _Yes_."

Kevin pulls him further down the bed, making enough room to allow Cecil to move around in front of Carlos. Cecil lies back, propped on the pillows, before reaching to pull Carlos on top of him, and it only takes the two doubles a moment to get Carlos in place. He cries out in pleasure as he sinks down onto Cecil, letting him slide deep, and it's an odd position to be in right now.

Because he might be on top physically, but he certainly isn't on top mentally.

"Does that feel good?" Cecil asks, hand up to pull Carlos in closer.

"Yes," Carlos manages. "Yes. _Please_."

He feels Kevin's hands stroke over his back, practically folded in two as he is over Cecil, and – even with the man beneath him also buried deep _in_ him – he still feels so very exposed.

"I'm going to take this slowly," Kevin tells him. "If you need me to stop… you tell me. You promise?"

"I promise," Carlos whispers.

He feels two of Kevin's fingers slide to where he's coupled with Cecil, pushing gently, carefully in alongside him, and even that makes Carlos' whole mind go hazy for a moment.

"Stay with me," Cecil says, laying a gentle hand on the side of Carlos' face. "That's it. That's it. Masters of us all, Carlos, you're so incredibly beautiful."

Despite everything, Carlos actually blushes a little at that, and Cecil presses up just enough to kiss him. And that means Carlos moans shamelessly against his lips as he feels Kevin slide a third finger into him.

" _Oh_ ," he gasps. "I…"

"Does that still feel good?" Kevin asks him, free hand stroking gently over his hip.

" _Yes_." And then some. Carlos is losing his mind at how good it feels, and given that he's already lost his mind once tonight, that's really saying something.

Kevin curls in over him, keeping his fingers in place, so he's as close as possible when he asks the crucial question.

"Do you want me to go all the way?"

" _Yes. **Please**_."

Even knowing what he's asking for – even having wondered (academically, scientifically, of course) in the past what it would be like – Carlos still can't quite believe he's doing this. Not when he feels Kevin carefully slide those fingers back, not when he hears the other man pouring out more of the lubricant.

Not until he feels Kevin start to push into him. _As well_.

" _Oh_ ," he whispers, almost soundlessly; reality going black round the edges.

"Is that good?" Kevin murmurs, gently.

Carlos finds he can't speak, so he nods several times. Enough that there will be no doubt as to what he means.

Kevin slowly, carefully, pushes in further. As far as he can. And Carlos' mind is absolutely reeling with delight; with a heady, heavy pleasure that makes every inch of him fill with heat.

He has them both. Both of them. Both of them buried deep inside him, at the same time, and it's like his mind is trying to divide by zero.

"Oh… _wow_ ," Kevin manages; the strange inelegance of it a testament to just how amazing this is.

"You feel incredible," Cecil gasps, and his voice is wavering a little too, now. "Both of you."

Kevin is the only one really in a position to move, given that Cecil is now pinned under the pair of them, and Carlos is utterly out of his head. So he does. And, even given that he can't move _much_ with the three of them locked together like this, it's enough to make Carlos cry out in ecstasy, pressing his face into the curve of Cecil's neck.

Cecil lifts a hand to stroke through Carlos' hair; the other finding one of Kevin's and locking fingers with him against Carlos' hip. And suddenly it seems that none of them can speak, but that's OK. They don't have to.

They all understand.

Neither double is going to last long like this, and Carlos can't help thinking it's a mercy that he himself has already come. Otherwise he'd probably be screaming in desperation right now. As it is, the waves of pleasure breaking through him, over and over, feel almost as close.

Cecil is the first to go over the edge, crying out as he does. His hips jolt upwards at the same time – as much as is possible in this position – and it's enough to drag Kevin right into the abyss alongside him. Carlos can feel the pleasure tearing through both of them, and it shatters his last lingering grip on the world, leaving him overcome by a dark, desperate, glorious bliss that overrules every other thought.

Except one.

 _ **I love you both so much**_.

The two doubles finally go still, collapsing into a tangle around Carlos, both of them gasping hard. He's vaguely aware of their hands stroking over his skin, and he's so hypersensitive that even the gentlest touch feels electric. For a moment that seems to consist of a breath and an eternity, they hold him, neither one moving.

And then, as if from a great distance, Carlos feels Kevin pull slowly, carefully back. Then Cecil wraps his arms around Carlos and rolls him gently onto his side, pulling out of him as well and then gathering him into a tight hug against his chest. Kevin immediately curls in behind Carlos, holding on just as firmly, and for another, longer moment they just lie as they are.

"That… was…" Cecil tries.

"…Yeah," Kevin manages. "It was."

Carlos makes the softest sound of bliss, which is meant to convey a whole world of adoration and gratitude and hope. And, judging by the way it makes them both hold him tighter, they know.

"… _wow_ ," Kevin says, again. "That… that was a _really_ good idea."

"Seconded," Cecil agrees, and then he kisses Carlos on the forehead. "How do you feel?"

Words are still a distant world in Carlos' mind. He manages another happy little sound, which makes Cecil smile.

"I thought so," he says, softly.

"We _have_ to do that again sometime soon," Kevin adds. "Because… because _wow_."

Carlos nods a lot, and Cecil kisses him again, laughing warmly.

"I think this is the part where Carlos insists you have to do it multiple times," Cecil points out. "For science."

He's not wrong. Not in the slightest.

"Good," Kevin agrees. "Especially because I have so many more plans for that lovely new basement of ours."

"So do _I_ ," Cecil says, in a tone of voice he has definitely picked up from Kevin, and Carlos can feel Kevin shiver in delight at the words.

But that's later. That's still to come in the great stretch of life that lies ahead. Right here, right now, there is this: three men, curled together in a bed, in a house, in a town.

Right where they're meant to be.

And at last, _at last_ , at long, long last… everything is fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I hope you enjoyed that. I truly do. :-)
> 
> Only one thing left now. The coda - which needed to be a chapter of its own even though it's not nearly long enough. Plus, this one was already way too long.
> 
> And, let's be honest, the final chapter title was too perfect not to use...


	15. Fine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and here we are. To those of you who made it this far, there aren't sufficient words to express my gratitude.
> 
> But I hope these will suffice:

**Fine**

_The End_

***

It's a few days later.

Specifically, it's July 14th. Carlos spends much of it repeatedly pausing to stare at the first close-up photo ever taken of the planet Pluto, whilst having a somewhat lively discussion via text message with his twin, Tomas, as to whether or not Pluto is a planet. Which it is.

But he's also trying to stay distracted. He's trying to stay distracted because _he_ has a plan for tonight, and he's absolutely definitely going to do it, and he's slightly terrified at the prospect.

Cecil and Kevin know something is going on, although they both seem content to accept the surprise and don't push him to tell them what it is. The day slips gradually by, and the two doubles return from the radio station to find that Carlos has made them dinner.

"I… want to take a drive, once it gets dark," he says. "There's something I want to show you."

This being Night Vale, it gets dark rather earlier than makes scientific sense, given the (alleged) latitude and (non-existent) time. Carlos barely even notices anymore, except to pause and smile to himself about how much he loves this place. And how scientifically-interesting it still is.

Carlos drives the three of them out into the desert. He's always been one of life's passengers, but tonight… tonight he takes the wheel. He follows a route out beyond the city limits, to the place he's heading for.

It's a point in the sand wastes, at the top of a gentle hill, and he pulls off the road and drives up it, stopping at the crest.

"We're here," he says.

The three of them step out into the warm desert air. Above them, the sky is a glittering tapestry of stars, shimmering in the haze. And, to left and right…

" _Oh_ ," Kevin breathes, happily.

"That's quite a view," Cecil agrees.

It is. This is one of the few points where you can easily see both cities at the same time: Desert Bluffs to the left, and Night Vale to the right. Both of them shine brighter than the stars, beacons of humanity, of existence, of life, in the dark.

Beautiful. Mysterious. Surprising.

 _Home_.

Without Carlos even needing to suggest it, the three of them move to sit on the hood of his car: Carlos in the middle, with Kevin on his left and Cecil on his right. For some time, they stay like that, close together, watching the two chiral cities glitter in the night, with the stars overhead.

It's strange. Carlos never even wanted to come here, in the beginning. Certainly never wanted to come back. And now he knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he'll never leave.

He smiles. He thought he'd be more nervous than this. Maybe he should be. Maybe he will be, when he…

…OK, yes, definitely nervous, now he thinks about it. Now his mind focuses on precisely why they're here. Definitely nervous. But not letting it stop him.

He slips off the hood of the car, leaving the other two still sitting there, and takes a couple of paces forward. He can tell they're watching him, that they're wondering what's really going on.

This. This is what's going on. This moment. This perfect, unstoppable, invincible now.

"So… there's something I need to say," he starts out. And, merciful Einstein, his voice is shaking. "I've been thinking about it for a while, and you know how I like to think, but… but I also like to _do_ , and right now there's only one thing I… one thing I want to…"

Pause. Deep breath. "One thing I want to ask you both."

Carlos turns. He meets their eyes for a second, and then he slips his hand into his pocket, pulling out the little black box hidden inside. And _then_ he drops down onto one knee, snapping the box open as he does.

There are two rings inside. Two identical silver rings, set with purple and orange stones.

"…Will you marry me?"

The words are perfect. The words are happiness and victory and joy and easily the most terrifyingly wonderful thing he's ever said. And then more words come.

"…And each other," he adds. "I mean, I'm not entirely sure how it works, what with the law and everything, but I also know that this is Night Vale, and this is Desert Bluffs, and if it's possible anywhere, it's possible here, and all I want is to be married to both of you, and for you to be married to each other, and I realise I'm kind of asking on your behalf in that respect but I'm not sure how you're supposed to do this when there's three of you so I thought maybe I should find out… I… you know, for science… so…"

It's at this point that Carlos realises the other two are staring at him in amazement.

And they're smiling.

" _Yes_ ," they say, in unison.

He stares at them, his mind not quite parsing the word.

"Yes," Cecil says, again, smiling even more.

"Of course we will," Kevin adds.

Carlos gasps, and surges up to wrap arms around both of them, trying not to cry with happiness. They hold onto him, and each other, and for a long moment none of them lets go.

"I love you," Carlos says, and it's the most fundamental truth in existence. Even more fundamental than thermodynamics. "I love you."

He pulls back just enough to meet their eyes, trying to keep the tears from his own as he slips one of the rings onto Cecil's finger, and the other onto Kevin's. The two men stare at the glittering bands in delight, then lock their hands together and pull Carlos in close again.

And they don't have to say anything. Maybe they can't, not yet. Both voices of Night Vale and Desert Bluffs, momentarily lost for words.

That's quite an achievement.

So there they sit, instead, on the hood of Carlos' car: the scientist in the centre, with the two doubles on either side, watching their cities shine in the night, beneath a sky full of stars and possibility.

And Carlos smiles. He'd do anything for them, and he knows they'd do anything for him, and for each other. They re-wrote his world, and he, in his own way, re-wrote theirs; these two men who are so utterly alike and so unshakably different, all at once.

And who mean everything to him, and always will.

Because that, after all, is the nature of love.

And chirality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it! To those of you who have joined me on this journey, whether you were here from the start or came in midway through, I truly do thank you from the bottom of my heart. This 'verse has been my companion through a deeply turbulent three and a half years, and I don't know what I would have done without it - or without the lovely words of encouragement so many of you have given me along the way.
> 
> So, you ask, what comes next? More! More comes next! When I started trying to envisage a life after Chiralityverse, I realised I wanted to do no such thing. On the contrary. There are other stories I can tell in this 'verse, and other things I can show, and I plan to do just that. I'm going to be starting a selection of shorter one-shots, set at various points in the timeline, and from a wider range of viewpoints. I've been making notes for myself all the way through writing this final part, so I already have plenty of material to work from!
> 
> These one-shots will be posted as stand-alone fics, so if you aren't subscribed to my main author feed, please consider doing so, to ensure you don't miss out! I have some interesting stories planned, and I hope you'll join me for them. :-)
> 
> And yes, I am aware that I'm announcing a switch to shorter one-shot stories with a wider focus almost exactly as the same has been said in main canon. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised.
> 
> After all... this 'verse always has been a little bit chiral.
> 
> <3


End file.
